


Monster

by aeriie



Category: Eldarya (Video Game)
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Falling In Love, Hate to Love, Villain to Hero, disregarding everything after episode 26 in canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:01:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26212327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aeriie/pseuds/aeriie
Summary: “You’re a monster.” The words fall from my lips in a whisper as I slip my arms around his shoulders, feeling the curved muscles of his back tremble under my touch, and when Lance speaks again I hear the dark amusementdrip, drip, drippingfrom his voice.“I’m your monster.”(Currently being edited and updated.)
Relationships: Ashkore | Lance/Gardienne | Guardian | Erika
Comments: 8
Kudos: 21





	Monster

+++ **  
** **ONE  
** +++

I’m woken by the tumbling of a wooden bucket across the floor, the rolling of the ship on the waves. The chill of the ice-cold night settles on my skin and my eyes snap open, wildly searching for shapes in the dark. Though I had previously been exhausted after the ordeal at H.Q, I’m now wide awake.  
  
Surveying my surroundings with caution, I can barely see past the dim glow of the oil lamp, hanging from the nearest post. I pull the threadbare blanket I’ve been given tighter around my shoulders, attempting to ward off the midnight chill and settle back into an uneasy sleep.  
  
It’s only when the sound of heavy footsteps come down the rickety, wooden stairs that I sit up straight, drag my knees up closer to my chest, and peer through the darkness.  
  
“You’re awake. Good,” his voice echoes through the shadows even before I see him, rumbling off the wooden walls, as dark and dangerous as ever.  
  
I push myself back into the wall, feet stumbling on the wooden planks as I scramble as far from him as possible, my voice a far cry from the sordid confidence of his own.   
  
“Let me go,” my hands shake at my sides, but I try, at least, to keep it from showing.   
  
Lance appears a moment later, his face half-illuminated by the solitary oil lamp and his mouth as solidly set as stone. His cold eyes, so pale they almost glow, fix me with a calculated stare.  
  
“No.”  
  
My heart drops at the word, and I don’t understand why he’s doing this, or what use I can possibly be to him.   
  
“What do you want from me?”  
  
His lips tilt upwards at this, his glacial eyes surveying me with a curiosity akin to one studying a small, trapped animal. Something to play with, something to taunt.   
  
“Like I said, you’re too valuable to just… get rid of.”  
  
He comes closer, crouching before me, and though I try, there’s nowhere left to move.  
  
“Do you tremble because you’re scared, or do you have another reason?”  
  
“What other reason would there be?” I spit, a little of my old fight returning to me.  
  
He smirks, as if sharing in some old secret. One I clearly haven’t remembered as fondly as him.   
  
“We had a connection, you and I. Perhaps you still feel it.”  
  
“You can’t be serious,” I scowl, and when I lean forward the blanket drops down, leaving my shoulders bare. Lance leans closer, a finger trailing over my exposed skin, setting it all alight with hatred.   
  
“You love another,” he says quietly, almost too soft for me to hear.  
  
I don’t answer. I don’t give him the _satisfaction_ of an answer, and when his eyes meet mine again, I drop them in an instant, my gaze trailing over the patterns in the woodwork.   
  
“I’ll make you a deal,” he says slowly, almost as though the words feel foreign on his tongue. “I’ll spare his life, if… you do something for me.”  
  
 _I’d never do anything for him_ , I promise myself, but… the curiosity to find out what he wants, what it would take to save the man I love, is too much to resist.  
  
Tilting my chin, I motion for him to go on, and his smirk curls higher still.  
  
“Give yourself to me,” he purrs, hooking his finger under the fabric on my shoulder and tugging me towards him. “Just once.”  
  
I spit in his face, the ferocity of my actions surprising myself, but my features remain as hard as steel and stone.  
  
He wipes it away slowly, deliberately, the grin never faltering and his hard eyes locked on mine. One would almost think he enjoyed it. Then he takes my chin in his hand, hard enough to hurt, and it’s only now that I see the blood on his skin, smell the metallic tang of it.  
  
His face is so close to mine that the warmth of his breath rolls over my skin, and when his hand tightens harder still, I have to stifle a whimper.   
  
“You know, I could take what I want from you as easily as I took you from those halfwits back there. But I won’t. I want you to give it to me.”  
  
“Why would I give _anything_ to you,” my teeth are gritted tight, my jaw aching beneath the force of his grip.  
  
He releases me finally, shoving my head to the side as he does so, as if my answer disappoints him entirely.   
  
“You know my intentions,” h sneers as he stands, towering over me. “I will bring the Guard of El to the ground. I will kill _every_ man, woman and child in the vicinity. Isn’t it worth it, knowing you have the power to spare the man you love from the same, brutal fate?”  
  
His words fall over me in a layer of disgust, the danger of his character ringing clear as a bell.

Murderer. Monster. _Psychopath._  
  
I can’t forget what he’s done. _I won’t forget._  
  
“You were going to kill me,” I say, and he stares down his nose at me, any trace of humanity he may possess thoroughly hidden.   
  
“Yes.”  
  
When he crouches in front of me again, I almost shudder at the hunger in his eyes. The raw malice.   
  
“I’m going to ask you once more,” He says slowly, deliberately, drawing out the words. “Where are you from?”  
  
“I told you,” I snap, thoroughly sick of the question. “I’m from Earth.”  
  
“But you’re not human.”  
  
“I _am_.”  
  
He stops, his mouth quirking as quick eyes look me over. I almost shiver at the way they seem to see straight through me.   
  
“I have a new rule. Every time you lie to me, I get to do something I’ve wanted to do since I first lay eyes on you.”  
  
I grit my teeth but I say nothing, for fear my voice will come out weak and broken. God only knows what he has in mind, and I prepare myself for the worst.   
  
“What are you?”  
  
 _“Human.”_  
  
“Your scent tells me differently,” he takes my trembling hand and raises it to his lips, kissing my knuckles lightly, his breath warm on my skin.   
  
“What are you?”  
  
“… Human.”  
  
He leans closer, so slowly, and I freeze when his lips brush against my cheek, his skin so hot against the bitter cold of mine it almost burns.   
  
“As soon you stop lying to me, I’ll stop all of this,” he whispers against my ear. “Now tell me once and for all. What are you?”  
  
“Hu-”  
  
His mouth covers mine before the word has even left my mouth, his tongue sweeping through my mouth fiercely. He tastes like ashes and blood, and I want to choke on the taste almost as much as I want it to consume me.   
  
Falling down, down, down into darkness. _I almost want to let go._  
  
My eyes snap open and when I _bite_ he pulls back with a wince, his tongue running over the blood pooling on his bottom lip.  
  
“You’re much more fun than I expected,” he murmurs, swiping a thumb over the wound to clear the blood. Then he sits back, cocking his head as he watches me.  
  
“How about we play another game?”  
  
“No,” I bite out, thoroughly disgusted at myself. “No more games.”  
  
“No? I have a good one,” his teeth glint white through the darkness, predatory and merciless. “For each piece of clothing you remove, I’ll spare a life.”  
  
“You’re a monster.”  
  
“I’m a realist,” he sits back against the wooden pillar, his legs stretched in front of him, one bent at the knee. The oil lamp above him spills warm light over his silver hair, casting inky shadows under his eyes.   
  
“I’ve much to tell you.”  
  
“I already know what you’re going to say,” I hiss, clasping my hands together to stop the shaking. “I won’t be used as your pawn.”

His eyes go dark and I wonder, not for the first time tonight, exactly what he plans on doing with me. 

“What has the Guard ever done for you?” he asks quietly, his voice steady, calculated. “Kept you prisoner. Erased you from the minds of a family they attempted to make you forget. They used you, they lied to you, and still you defend them.”  
  
His mouth twists into a scowl so hateful my blood runs cold. 

“Why?”

I grit the answer out from between my teeth. “Because I love him.”  
  
“No,” he smiles, wide and wolfish. “Because you _need_ him. Because their poor decisions left you lost and alone in a world you did not know, and you needed someone to cling to. To make you feel safe.”  
  
My breath goes heavy and I shake my head stubbornly. He’s wrong… _I know he’s wrong_. So why does my chest feel heavy when I think of the Guard of El. Of everything they’ve done to me.  
  
I can’t let myself falter in front of him. I can’t give him a weakness to use against me.   
  
“I could keep you safe,” he whispers, his words almost lost as they travel so quietly between us “I would, if you’d let me.”   
  
“What makes you think I’d _ever_ trust you?”  
  
“You will. Eventually.”  
  
It’s my turn to watch him now. The way his eyes burn into mine, how he seems so utterly relaxed in my presence. It’s enough to unnerve me more than he already does.  
  
He cocks his head left, and then right, sizing me up.   
  
“Like I said, I’ve much to tell you. About the Guard. About your boyfriend,” his tongue flicks over his lip, his eyes trailing over me deliberately. “And about Eldarya.”  
  
“So tell me,” I snap at with a click of my tongue, growing impatient with this game.  
  
“I think you liked it when I kissed you,” he says instead, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. “You know, there’s certain tells when the body experiences pleasure. The skin gets warmer, the mouth gets wetter, and the scent… _it’s everywhere_.”  
  
“You’re deranged.”  
  
His mouth curves. “There’s no one to fool here, sweetheart. You can drop the pretend.”  
  
“Do you even hear the words that come out of your mouth?” I stress to him, becoming more and more exasperated with his games. Pushing myself away from the wall, I kneel closer so he can hear me better.  
  
“I _don’t want_ to be here. I want to go home.”  
  
“Home,” he tests the word on his tongue. “I can restore you to your home. If you wish it.”  
  
“Good. Take me back to H.Q.”  
  
“Not H.Q.” He scowls, as if the mere thought of the place is enough to enrage him. “Earth.”  
  
I stop. My face dropping and my chest growing so heavy it feels as though it’s caving in.   
  
“How?” The word escapes me in a breath, but he hears it all the same.   
  
“Kiss me,” he demands, his fingers reaching for me lazily.  
  
I push myself back into the wall once more, eyeing him warily. “No.”

“Why do you deny yourself what you want?”

I let out a low, bitter laugh. Of course he wouldn’t return me to earth. Why would he, when the cost is so high.  
  
“You _disgust_ me.”  
  
He shakes his head, amused. “No. You disgust yourself, because you know the truth.”  
  
“And what truth is that?”

His face turns light, almost hopeful. “Kiss me again, and I’ll tell you more. I’ll tell you _everything_ you want to know.”

I look at him, wary. There’s no guarantee that he’ll keep his promise. And if there really was a chance for me to return to earth… would I take it? Am I going to do what I’m about to in hopes it will save someone I love… or because truly, above all else, _I just want to go home?_  
  
My mind made up, my hands hit the cold floor and I crawl to him, our eyes locked and a triumphant smirk lifting his lips. 

When I kneel in front of him, I see something I didn’t expect, and I let out a sharp breath. I see the exhaustion. The pallor of his face accentuated by dark circles beneath pale eyes.

Suddenly it doesn’t seem so terrifying, knowing that he’s just a man. 

“One time?” I hear myself asking, but the voice doesn’t sound like my own. It sounds desperate, but bold, despite everything else.

“Once,” his eyes never leave me, but his fingers twitch where they lay on his knee. “Unless, of course… _you beg for more_.”

It takes all I have to keep from scowling at him, and I give a small dip of my head, crawling over his legs and towards him. When his mouth sinks into mine, I melt into his touch, heat flooding like a wave through me. My traitorous body responds to him, and I want to take back the soft moan that escapes me as soon as it leaves my mouth. But it’s too late.

He grabs me by the waist and pulls me onto him, my knees positioned on either side of his waist before he kisses me again. And I let him. Like the traitor I am… _I let him._  
  
And I don’t want him to stop.   
  
My arms curl around his neck while his hands curve over my waist, my hips, my ass. He pulls me down against his hips and a gasp escapes me, and when I push down on him again, craving the friction of his body against mine, a dark laugh rumbles through him.   
  
He moves his hand into my hair and fists it at the back of my scalp, pulling back abruptly, and I miss his lips in an instant.   
  
“Good girl,” He growls in a whisper, flicking my lips with his tongue.   
  
He grins at me darkly, and it’s so unnerving my blood runs cold.  
  
And it’s then that I realize I’ve given him _exactly_ what he wanted. He didn’t crave my body so much as he wanted my mind. To push me to the edge, break me down. _And like a fool I let him._  
  
I scramble off him as fast as I can and he laughs, pushing himself to his feet.  
  
“You know, it’s cold down here. You’re welcome to join me in my quarters,” He says low, wanting, and with a deliberate glance over my flushed body. I’ll keep you warm.“  
  
 _"Go to hell,”_ I spit at him, feeling so sick, so _disgusted_ with myself that I want to vomit.  
  
He steps back, receding into the darkness and the cold of the ships lower decks, though before he leaves, his voice echoes once more through the hollow space.  
  
“I’m already there.” 

+++  
 **TWO**  
+++

When I step onto the main deck the ocean wind bites at my skin, ice-cold and merciless, and I wrap my arms around myself in an attempt to keep warm. The deck is dark, save for a few oil lamps casting their warm glow over the wooden rails, the barrels of supplies. The mast sits proudly in the middle, it’s strong sails rustling in the wind, decorated with clouds, and sun and sky.   
  
I move forward, the cold biting at my feet through my thin shoes and a shiver running through me so fierce I can feel it deep down in my bones.   
  
His quarters are easy enough to find, there’s only one door leading to anywhere above deck. I don’t see any crew members, faerie or otherwise, but I have the distinct feeling of being watched.  
  
Stopping in front of his door, I wonder if I should knock, but upon deciding he would never afford me the same courtesy, I push on the door and step into the room.   
  
“Look who came crawling back for more,” His dark voice echoes towards me as I hesitate in the doorway. It’s only slightly warmer in here than out on the deck, but at least it’s sheltered from the wintry winds.   
  
“I’m not here for you,” I spit through chattering teeth, moving my hands up and down my arms to spread some warmth into them. “It’s _freezing_ below deck.”  
  
Lance stands from where he was seated at a wooden desk, walking towards me slow and deliberately. When he’s close enough that I can see my own reflection in his eyes, he leans down towards me, and I get the unmistakable feeling in the pit of my stomach that this was a bad idea.   
  
A _very_ bad idea.   
  
“Keep the door closed,” He growls, reaching past me to pull it shut. His arm brushes mine and I shiver, thinking It’s hardly fair that he’s the one who runs unnaturally hot while I’m practically freezing to death.   
  
_Well, at least he hasn’t thrown me out._  
  
He leans back and crosses his arms over his chest, watching me, his expression hard. The amusement and cockiness from earlier has thoroughly dissipated. Instead he looks… _pissed off._  
  
“Take the bed,” He inclines his head to the cot in the corner of the room before turning on his heels and sitting back down at the desk, picking up a long, feathered quill and holding it between his fingers.   
  
“What about you?” I ask quietly as I tip-toe across the room, fearing any sudden movement might have him changing his mind and tossing me out. Tossing me overboard, more like it.   
  
“I don’t sleep much.”  
  
His voice is rough, and I hear the exhaustion in it. _Don’t sleep, or… can’t sleep_ , I think to myself as I sit on the edge of the bed, hesitant. My eyes flicker to the door, wondering if I should return below decks and brave the cold. _It’s not too late._  
  
“What are you writing?” I ask instead, hoping that the more familiar I make myself the less inclined he’ll be to murder me in my sleep. Not that I believe he will, anyway. I get the impression he took me from the Guard for another reason entirely.   
  
“A letter,” His voice is tight, controlled. He doesn’t want to talk, but I prod him anyway. Perhaps it’s for my own amusement after all.   
  
“To who?”  
  
He looks over his shoulder, his eyes narrowed upon me in ice-blue slits.   
  
“Do I need to shove a sock in your mouth to shut you up?” He growls, looking from one side of his desk to the other. “I’m sure I left a frying pan around here somewhere.”  
  
My mouth opens but I close it again just as quickly, and he turns back to scratch away on the parchment in front of him. Putting my hands under my thighs for warmth, I lean back and take the opportunity to survey the small room.  
  
It’s modestly sized. A cot for one person in the corner, a writing desk opposite that and a large storage chest beside it. A wooden divider with a makeshift curtain slung over it separates the back section of the room, and I wonder idly what could be back there, before deciding it’s probably better not to ask.  
  
I watch as Lance folds his letter, puts away his ink and quill and stands, leaning back against the desk and surveying me with a hard stare. I can’t stop my eyes from travelling over him. It occurs to me that this is the first time I’ve seen him without his armor.  
  
He’s still dressed in black, but without the metal and the red he looks… softer somehow.   
  
“Like what you see?” He asks with that infuriating, half-cocked grin of his.   
  
I give him a dry look, rolling my eyes for effect. “You promised you’d tell me more.”  
  
He turns his head, looking away, his profile illuminated by a fiery glow. It’s only now that I see what sits on the desk beside him. _A fire crystal._  
  
“It can wait a little longer,” He says, shifting on his feet. “I have a question for you.”  
  
“I already told you-”  
  
He holds up a hand to silence me, and I close my mouth at once, feeling the power that his dark stare commands all the way to my toes.   
  
“You asked me to take you away from Headquarters. You told me you didn’t trust the Guard. That was months ago.”  
  
“I remember,” I say softly. I had half-hoped he’d forgotten about that, but I suppose that was too much to wish for. What he planned on doing with the information, however, eluded me.   
  
“And would you have come? If I’d said yes?”  
  
He looks at me now… _really_ looks at me. Gone is the cruelty and malice of before. He’s finally asked a question that he truly wants to know the answer to.  
  
My eyes trail the patterns on the floor, attempting to hide the truth from my face that I know he’ll read all too easily. I was ready to leave the Guard. To leave all of them behind. I truly, _desperately_ , wanted him to take me away.   
  
I’m not sure I want him to know that, but I find it’s becoming increasingly difficult to lie to him. And besides… a lot has changed since then.  
  
“Yes,” I say finally, unable to hide it any longer. Let him do with that knowledge what he will.   
  
He leans forwards, hands clasped together in front of him and a curious tilt to his lips. “And now?”  
  
“Now I know the truth.”  
  
“Oh?” He cocks a silver eyebrow, running a thumb over his bottom lip in habit. “Tell me. What is this truth you know?”  
  
I take a deep breath, painfully aware that I’m about to become the sole target of his wrath. But I can’t keep quiet any longer.   
  
“You’re a murderer. You’ve killed innocent people. _Companions_.”  
  
“I’ve killed, yes, but innocent?” He shakes his head, blue eyes burning with a deep, ancient fury.   
  
I swallow hard, watching as he runs a hand through his silver hair before he paces the small space in front of me.  
  
“ _My_ people were _innocent_.”  
  
He stops suddenly, fixing me with a glare so dark it’s almost condemning. Then he sighs, long and heavy, his shoulders dropping in defeat.   
  
“Sleep,” He instructs, cutting the conversation short, and I’m relieved that the extent of his anger was short-lived. “I have things to do.”  
  
He sits back at his desk, and I slip off my shoes and slide under the sheets of the bed, pulling the blanket around me tight. I watch him for a while… I can’t help myself. Starting by studying the broad lines of his shoulders, the tightness of his back…   
  
Until he lets out an exasperated sound and whips around in his chair, eyes burning with frustration.  
  
“I can’t concentrate with all that _noise_ ,” He snaps, and I realize he means my chattering teeth.  
  
Despite being out of the wind on the deck and the biting cold of my former accommodation, I’m still finding it impossible to get warm.  
  
“It’s freezing in here!” I protest, and an irritated growl escapes from somewhere in the back of his throat. He picks something up from the desk and strides towards me, slamming it down on the small bedside table where it emits a subtle warmth.   
  
The fire crystal.  
  
“Happy now?” He snarls, his lips turned into an unhappy scowl. “Go to sleep.”  
  
“You should sleep too,” I mumble as he walks away, and he turns back on me in an instant, his eyes sharp.  
  
“And where do you suppose I do that when there’s a walking liability already in my bed?”  
  
I inhale sharply, my eyes narrowed in fierce lilac slits. “I thought you said I was valuable.”  
  
“Yeah, a _valuable_ pain in my ass.”  
  
Scowling, I sit up in bed to face him head on. He doesn’t flinch or waver in the slightest. He only answers me with a look as exasperated as my own.   
  
“You made me kiss you,” I spit out, and still he stands unmoved. “Why?”  
  
“To prove that I could,” He sneers at me darkly, and I shake my head. I don’t believe him for one goddamn second. And I’m going to find out the truth.   
  
“I think there’s another reason.”  
  
He grins, dark and wicked, and my skin tingles under his gaze, becomes electric when he steps towards me.   
  
“And what is that?” He asks, drawing out the words long and slow.  
  
I don’t falter. I don’t back down.   
  
And I remind myself…  
  
 _He’s only a man._  
  
“You’re lonely,” I say frankly, and he scoffs, backing off with a roll of his eyes.  
  
“Alone, yes. But lonely?” The look he gives me is so venomous my mouth parts in response. _“Never.”_  
  
“I don’t believe you.”  
  
He steps towards me so quickly I have to tilt back against the wall when he places his hands on the bed and leans over me, his eyes as sharp as a razor on my skin.   
  
“What would you know? You’re a lost little girl who doesn’t belong in this world.” His voice is low, threatening, and it sends a shiver running through me. “You’ll _never belong here_.”  
  
He strides out of the room, slamming it behind him with a _bang_ that echoes through the small space and rattles my bones. I realize then that my heart is pounding like a drum in my chest, my breath coming out in long, heavy gasps.   
  
Lance is lying to me, about many things.  
  
It’s about time I found out the truth. 

++++  
 **THREE**  
++++

**Lance POV**

My boots thud across the wooden planks of the deck, heavy and ominous, as my anger seethes off of me in waves.  
  
That little brat can’t keep her mouth shut for five _goddamn_ minutes.   
  
And now she’s gone too far.  
  
Once we get to Memoria and I’ve had her show me the way to the dragons, I’ll be happy to get rid of her.   
  
Maybe throw her into the ocean. Or split her in half with my sword.  
  
Anything, _anything_ to silence that voice of hers. _The one that I can’t get out of my head._  
  
+

**Guardienne POV**

When I wake, it’s to the soft glow of the fire crystal warming my face. I blink my eyes open sleepily, stretching my limbs out and groaning. I’d had a strange dream during the night - one that I’m not entirely sure was a dream at all. It was more like someone was trying to reach out to me.

_But who?_

The smell of food hits me and my stomach growls unhappily. It’s been a while since I last ate.  
  
On the small table beside the bed sits a plate of bread, cheese and fruit. Grabbing it, I wolf down the contents, regretting it almost immediately when I start feeling nauseous.  
  
I glance around the cabin warily. Lance is nowhere to be seen, and I wonder idly where he slept last night. Pulling back the blankets I step out of bed, slipping my feet into my shoes before I leave the cabin.   
  
In the daylight I can see the boat is much bigger that I thought, and I shield my eyes from the morning sun to look around. There are faeries here and there of all shapes and sizes. Some look like sailors, the ones who are running about hastily, while the others, who are not doing much of anything, I suspect are Lance’s soldiers.  
  
The ocean air hits me as I step up to the rail, leaning over it and chancing a glance over the side to the sea churning beside the boat. Sea spray covers the sides of the wooden ship, and it looks so refreshing that for a moment I consider jumping, but quickly gather my wits. 

Glancing at the horizon on all sides, all I see is an endless expanse of dark water and blue sky. No islands. No ships, save ours.   
  
_Where exactly would I go?_

  
“Not thinking of jumping, are you?” A silky voice comes from behind me, as soft as shadows, and when I turn Lance is there, mirroring my very thoughts.   
  
I throw him a withering glare. He knows perfectly well I have no other choice but to stay where I am.   
  
His lips tilt a little and it’s then that I notice what he’s holding in each hand. A mop and a bucket. My eyebrows widen on him in mock surprise.   
  
“Cleaning the deck are you? How _lovely_ of you to help your crew.”  
  
“Nice try,” He sneers, stepping towards me, tall and imposing. “These are for you.”  
  
I wrinkle my nose at the items disdainfully. “You want me to clean your _boat_?”  
  
“It’s a ship,” He seethes through gritted teeth, and I can tell he’s quickly losing patience. Not that that’s anything out of the ordinary. 

_"I’m not your slave.”_  
  
He huffs a laugh, looking me up and down with that smug, half-cocked smirk that makes my blood boil.   
  
“Do you know how to sail?”  
  
I hesitate a second before answering, folding my arms over my chest.

“No.”  
  
“Then what other use do you have?”  
  
I scowl at him, snatching the bucket and mop impatiently and ignoring his self-satisfied grin. I keep busy the entire day, which it turns out isn’t hard to do with Lance giving me task after task to complete. By the time night has finally fallen I’m exhausted, sweaty, and thoroughly pissed off. A million unanswered questions have lodged themselves in my head.   
  
_How much longer are we going to be on this damn boat? What does Lance want with me? How is the Guard going to find me?_  
  
When I find Lance he’s on the bow of the ship, his eyes fixed on the darkened horizon ahead. I clear my throat as I approach, thinking it’s probably best not to sneak up on an angry dragon with a dagger strapped to his leg.   
  
“You said we’d talk,” I say softly, peering over his shoulder and following his line of sight. Squinting, all I can see are stars pin-pointed in an inky, indigo sky. I wonder vaguely what he thinks of when he sits here, all alone.   
  
“A little longer,” His voice is so quiet I barely hear it, but when I understand what he’s said I grit my teeth in annoyance. 

” _How_ long?“  
  
He doesn’t answer, so I let out an impatient sigh and lean on the railing beside him. If he doesn’t want to talk, then I’ll pester him until he does.   
  
"You smell like the rest of the bloody sailors,” He turns to me finally, his nose crinkled, and I grimace at him, my voice dripping with sarcasm.   
  
“And where do you suggest I bathe?”  
  
He gestures to the ocean with a hand and I scoff.   
  
“Oh, yeah. I’ll just jump overboard and watch you all sail off without me. Or better yet, get eaten by those _things_ you sent after my boyfriend.”  
  
His eyes turn hard for a moment, until he gestures at someone over my shoulder and the boat shakes and begins to slow, more and more, before coming to a stop completely.  
  
When he turns back and fixes me with a hard stare the panic rises in me and I back away slowly, one foot behind the other, holding my hands in front of me.  
  
“No, no, _no_. I am _not_ getting in that water.”  
  
“Is that so?” He advances on me, his grin wolfish, and I step back further. Then he lunges, and although I try to run, he’s much too fast. Grabbing me around the waist, he swings me over his shoulder and steps towards the railing.  
  
“Lance! Put me down!” I scream at him, beating on his back for good measure, but he might as well be an immovable fortress for all the good it does.   
  
His dark laugh rumbles through me, though in an instant it’s gone and I’m falling through the air, landing with a splash in the dark depths below. 

  
The first thing that hits me is the cold. Like tiny pin-pricks of ice covering me from head to toe. I come up spluttering, about to continue my verbal assault on Lance until I hear a splash beside me and spot a silver flash in the water. Though the cold is slowing my body my heart picks up speed and I panic, my mind seized up with fear.   
  
When Lance let’s out a low whistle, whatever was next to me slithers off through the water, but I’m still paralyzed with fear. Something could be directly underneath me and I’d have no idea.  
  
“What is wrong with you?!” I shout at Lance once I manage to regain some control over myself, kicking my feet in an attempt to keep my head above water. I was never the strongest of swimmers, but I think I can manage that at least. 

Lance laughs, thoroughly amused by my situation from where he crouches on the deck.   
  
“It’s freezing in here,” I pout, my throat tight and my teeth chattering violently.  
  
He let’s out a tired sigh. “Do you ever stop complaining?”  
  
“Not when I’m being held against my will.”  
  
“You wanna go back?” He gestures in the direction we came from with a snarl. “Start swimming.”  
  
“As if you’d let me.”  
  
“At this stage, I _really don’t care_.”  
  
“I think you’re-”  
  
I don’t get to finish my sentence, however, as he holds a hand out in front of him impatiently and gestures for me to hurry up. I swim over to the ladder on the side of the ship, climbing up and letting him help me back on board, pushing him on the shoulder in annoyance once I’ve straightened up.   
  
“You’re like a lost companion, you know that? Walking around with those sad eyes and pouty lips,” He growls, taking in my dripping wet appearance, which i’m sure is anything but graceful.  
  
“How else would you prefer me to look?” I hiss, my eyes narrowing on him in fiery slits.   
  
“Like that,” He says, stepping closer and taking my chin between his fingers, tilting my face towards him. “Like sunbeams and moonlight. I see both in your eyes.”  
  
His skin is hot, like always, and I feel myself instinctively leaning closer. I can’t move away. I can barely breathe. It’s only when he removes his hand that I remember my body needs air to function, and I take in a deep breath.  
  
“Follow me,” Lance orders, turning and heading across the deck. I roll my eyes and grumble a little before following behind him.  
  
He enters his cabin, and when I walk in behind him he’s already disappeared behind the divider at the back of the room.   
  
“Come here,” He says again, and I hesitantly move towards the curtain. When I peek around the corner I finally see what’s hidden back there.  
  
A large wooden tub, filled with steaming hot water.  
  
“Get in,” He instructs, pointing a thumb over his shoulder at the tub. “Wouldn’t want you dying of pneumonia before we get to where we’re going.”  
  
“ _Where_ are we going?”  
  
“You’ll find out soon enough.”  
  
I give him an annoyed look and he walks back to the front of the room, giving me privacy to peel off my wet clothes and slip into the tub. Sighing as the heat of the water covers me, I let it warm me deep down to my bones.   
  
After soaking myself thoroughly and scrubbing away the last of the grime from the days work, I manage to find a soft towel and dry myself off. It’s only then that I realize my clothes are soaked through. _I can’t put those back on._   
  
Digging around some more, I find a trunk filled with different clothing. I hold a long, black shirt up to my nose and sniff. It definitely smells like Lance. Like ash, and ice, and… something else entirely.  
  
Slipping it on, it comes down to mid-thigh, and I decide it will have to do.  
I hang my wet clothes up to dry and head back to the room, finding Lance lying on his bed, his arms stretched behind his head and his eyes closed.   
  
My eyes flicker over the dagger on the table and an idea takes shape in my mind. I could do it. _I could kill him_ , and after everything he’s ever done, he’d deserve it.  
  
I gaze over him, from the twin scars on his sharp nose, to the curve of his chest, his long legs. This is the first time I’ve seen him look so peaceful, and something about the sight stirs my heart.   
  
And I know I can’t do it.  
  
I can’t kill Lance anymore than I can bring myself to trust him.   
  
Letting out a tired sigh, I glance around the room. _Now where am I supposed to sleep?  
_  
“Bed’s occupied, I’m afraid,” Lance cracks an eye open and watches me, and I jump a little. _He’s been awake this whole time?_  
  
“I’ll sleep on the floor,” I grumble, finding a spot to sit and lean back against the wall. After today I’m so exhausted I could probably sleep anywhere.  
  
“I’m surprised you want to be anywhere near me,” He says quietly, his eyes closed again.   
  
“Yes, well. You’re warm.”  
  
He lets out a _hmph_ and says no more, and I settle back against the wall, the warmth of my bath quickly dissipating when the chill of the wood begins to seep through my bare legs.  
  
“You can’t sleep on the floor,” Lance’s voice drifts across the room after a while, softer than before, though I only narrow my eyes at the wall.   
  
“Watch me.”  
  
His eyes snap open, bright and impatient. “We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow and I don’t particularly want to listen to you complaining of a bad back.”  
  
“Then what do you suggest?” I snap at him, my eyes fixing his with a solid glare.  
  
He raises his eyebrows, looking me over and patting the spot beside him on the bed as if it were the most simple solution in the world.  
  
I let out a dark laugh, shaking my head in disbelief.   
  
“No way.”

He lays back on the bed, seemingly unphased. “Do you want to freeze on the floor all night?”

“Don’t you have any other beds on this bloody ship?” I snap, and he shrugs dismissively.

“Maybe. But none where I can keep an eye on you.”

Our eyes lock, standing off against each other, and eventually I give in with a growl of annoyance and push myself up off the floor. 

Slipping under the covers beside him I’m immediately enveloped in a warmth so soothing I have to bite down on my lip to keep from sighing. I turn away from him, his hard chest pressed against my back and his long legs leaning into mine.  
  
“Keep your hands to yourself,” I order, feeling his laughter rumble through me and set off sparks all over my body.   
  
“As you wish.”   
  
He doesn’t keep his word, and when his arm snakes around my waist, pulling me tighter against him, I let it.  
  
My mind drifts to my boyfriend back in El, and I wonder what he’s doing right now. He’ll be searching for a way to find me, I know it. I know he won’t stop until I’m in his arms again.   
  
I think of his face, his lips, his kiss, but every time a memory comes to me it warps and shifts into something I tell myself I don’t want to see.   
  
It turns in to Lance. _His_ face, _his_ lips, _his_ kiss.   
  
I fall asleep to the sound of waves on the hull, to the feeling of Lance’s breath on my hair, and the warmth of his skin cocooning me.   
  
I should feel disgusted. But I don’t.  
  
And I can’t quite figure out what that means. 

+++  
 **FOUR**  
+++

**Lance POV**

The dagger sits on the bedside table, untouched. I watch the dark blade flicker under the glow of the fire crystal, begging to be used. To take lives. _To destroy._  
  
I have to admit I’m surprised. I’d left it there to test her, of course, and she hadn’t even picked it up, though I don’t doubt the thought crossed her mind. Maybe even more than once.   
  
She’s still asleep, her breathing deep and even against my chest. I don’t think she realizes it but her hand is over mine. So strong. _So fragile._ It amazes me how she let’s her guard down so easily, how she sleeps in my arms, after all that I’ve done to her.  
  
I bury my face in her hair and breathe her in. Even though she’s wearing my shirt, she still smells undeniably like _her_. Soft, spirited, beautiful.   
  
Seeing her in my clothes last night stirred something in me, and I knew I needed her closer, I needed to touch her, to feel her. I never want to see her in _anything_ else. It’s my shirts from now on, or nothing at all.   
  
Gods, the thought of that makes me ache.   
  
I swallow thickly, trying not to disturb her. I’ve never had anyone in my arms like this before, and I thought i’d hate it, until I realized I feel quite the opposite.  
  
It’s dangerous to think like this, of course, and it won’t happen again. Not if I can help it.  
  
But when she’s around me, I don’t feel so… alone. 

+  
  
 **Guardienne POV**  
  
I step out of the wooden tub after another hard day of cleaning the ship, organizing stocks, and preparing food. I should be annoyed at all the tasks Lance is giving me, but really, I’m happy to have something to keep me busy. To keep my mind from wandering.   
  
My hair falls over my shoulder, clean but dripping wet and I squeeze the excess water out with my towel and look around for my clothes.   
  
Pulling my pants on first, which are dry enough to wear, I dig around for another of Lance’s shirts. I could wear my tunic, I suppose, but the short sleeves leave my shoulders bare and the nights are getting colder as we travel towards our unknown destination.   
  
I find one easily. Black, as usual, with a neckline so low it comes down to my belly button when it’s unbuttoned.  
  
I’ve barely stepped out from behind the divider, finishing the buttons and tucking the long shirt into my pants when Lance takes me by the wrist and drags me behind him. He has a habit of doing that, and no matter how hard I struggle or how loud I protest, his grip is like iron.   
  
When we stop in front of the wheel I give him a reproachful look, rubbing at my wrist tenderly.  
  
He only rolls his blue eyes and shoves me in front of him.   
  
“Hands on the wheel,” He instructs, and I position my hands on either side reluctantly to save myself from an argument I don’t have the energy for. He comes up behind me, his chest pressed against my back, and encircles his arms around me as he adjusts my grip.  
  
“Turn it to the left, ever so slightly,” His voice is a warm breath in my ear, and my skin tingles under it’s touch.   
  
“You see that star up there,” He extends his arm, pointing to one particular star that seems to be shining brighter than the rest. “That’s Polaris. We’ll be following it north, until we reach our destination.   
  
I shift the wheel slowly, pointing towards the north star and despite myself I feel a smile tug on my lips when the boat turns with my command. I’ve never sailed a ship before. There’s something pleasant about it. Something about the feeling of having a vessel completely in your control that makes you feel… _free_ , somehow.   
  
"Where are we going, Lance?” I ask again, feeling his eyes on my face, watching me.  
  
“Memoria.”  
  
I turn my head to the side, my eyes meeting his. His arms are around me, his hands sitting loosely on the bottom of the wheel and the warmth of his body running through me.  
  
“Do you want to go back?” He asks quietly, his gaze holding mine with unflinching resolution. “To El?”   
  
I break eye contact first, knowing if I don’t he’ll see the lie for what it is. The real truth is that I’m undecided.   
  
“Of course.”  
  
He let’s out a sigh, and I wonder if he’s seen it anyway. When he pulls away, I miss his heat immediately, cursing myself for the thought as soon as it surfaces.   
  
He instructs one of the sailors to take the wheel, and this time when he pulls me along behind him, he takes my hand in his. I follow him to the front of the bow, where he drops my hand and steps forward, his eyes, as always, fixed on the horizon.  
  
“We’ll arrive tomorrow,” He says, the command in his voice returning with force. “I expect you know what I want you to do.”  
  
 _Lead him to the dragons._  
  
“I won’t.”  
  
The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them, though I wouldn’t have changed them anyway. His eyes snap to mine, hard and unfaltering, and I do my best not to recoil under his stony gaze.  
  
“You won’t?” He asks, slow and calculated. When he steps towards me this time, I take a step back in tandem. I know that tone of voice all too well, and it spells nothing but trouble.  
  
“I won’t let you hurt them,” I say firmly, every inch as stubborn as he is.  
  
He raises an eyebrow, that dangerous, dark rasp creeping back into his voice. “Then I have news for you. _You don’t have a choice_.”  
  
“You think so?” I let out a disbelieving laugh, hissing at him before I turn and walk away. “I’d like to see you _make me_.”  
  
In an instant he’s in front of me, grabbing my wrist and pulling me against him, his face like thunder as he scowls down at me.  
  
“Lance, you’re hurting me,” I gasp through clenched teeth, attempting to pry his iron grip off my wrist.  
  
“ _Good_ ,” He scowls down at me, the pressure on my wrist increasing so much I let out a cry. “It’s about time you learnt life isn’t all sunshine and rainbows.“

"You think I don’t know that?!” I push against his chest, though it does little to move him. “You have no idea what I’ve been through!”  
  
“I do. And it’s but a shadow of what I’ve experienced,” He seethes through gritted teeth, his skin like ice and fire against mine. “What _my people_ had to go through.”  
  
“Lance-” I cry, pulling against his grip on me, his touch burning, _freezing…_  
  
His eyes are smoldering, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t release his hand from me. Until finally he stops, pushing me away from him and sneering like I’m nothing more than a tiny, insignificant bug under his boot.   
  
“You really are just a _stupid_ , little girl, aren’t you.”  
  
He storms off and I grit my teeth, saying nothing, only watching through hard, violet eyes as he stomps into his cabin, slamming the door shut behind him.   
  
I don’t dare follow, instead I find a place on the bow to sit and stare at the horizon, pulling my knees up to my chest and pleading with myself not to cry, not to fall apart, _not to let him get to me.  
_  
But when I look out at the stars, I realize the tears are already there.   
  
+  
  
I wake to darkness and warmth and the feeling of strong arms around me. It’s only when I’m lowered to the familiar bed and I feel him crawl in beside me that I understand what’s happening.   
  
“Aren’t you mad at me?” I whisper through the dark, feeling Lance tense a moment before he lets out a heavy breath.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“So why?”  
  
He shifts against me, pressed chest to chest, his breath warm and sweet on my face. “I can’t leave you out there to freeze.”  
  
Caught somewhere between reality and dreams, I raise a hand to his face, fingers trailing over high cheekbones. He catches my wrist and I jump a little, inhaling sharply, but he slowly relaxes into my touch.   
  
I can’t explain what I’m feeling. I can’t explain to myself why he feels _so good_ against me, why my fingers are itching to touch him, why my lips are desperate to find his through the darkness.   
  
My fingers follow the curves of his face, over the twin scars on his nose, over full lips, always so venomous. His hand stills around my wrist again, and he stops me there, kissing the tips of my fingers once, and then twice.   
  
I barely have a moment to register it when his lips find mine, his mouth hot and desperate as he steals every breath from my body. My fingers curl in the front of his shirt, my mouth parting for his tongue to access, and his hand cups my scalp as he deepens the kiss.   
  
A soft moan escapes me as my legs tangle through his, craving his heat, his touch, and every _forbidden_ thing about him. He leans over me, pushing me back against the softness of the bed as he kisses me and I let him… I let him… _what the hell am I letting him do?_  
  
I stop abruptly, but he doesn’t follow suit. Instead his lips trail my face, my jaw, my neck, sending my traitorous body into an oblivion so dark I want to fall in and never crawl out again.   
  
Surely this is a dream. It must be, for it to feel this good. I’m still asleep on the bow of the ship. I’ll wake up any moment and hate myself for wanting this.   
  
His teeth nip my neck and I let out a soft hiss. This definitely isn’t a dream. And I most definitely _should not be doing this._  
  
I push against his chest, climbing out from under him to escape the mess I’ve gotten myself in.   
  
My hands fly to my head, compelling dark thoughts out of my mind, and I groan under the weight of them. Lance says nothing, only chuckles darkly. I know he senses my inner struggle, and I’m sure it absolutely delights him.  
  
That sadistic piece of-  
  
“Come back to bed.”  
  
“No.”

 _I hate him. I hate him. I hate-_  
  
“Why do you deny yourself what you want?” He mimics his words from the first night on this _goddamned_ ship, and I think I must be driven mad by this place. Why else would I be so tempted to do what he commands of me?  
  
The sound of him shifting in bed hits my ears, then long fingers thread through mine, pulling me towards him. I let him pull me onto his lap, my knees on either side of his waist and his nose nuzzled in the hollow of my neck.  
  
“You’re a monster,” The words fall from my lips in a whisper as I slip my arms around his shoulders, feeling the curved muscles of his back tremble under my touch, and when Lance speaks again I hear the dark amusement _drip, drip, dripping_ from his voice.  
  
“I’m your monster.” 

+++  
 **FIVE  
** +++

Last night I was back in H.Q.   
  
At first I thought it was a dream, until I realized it was something… else. I had somehow projected my soul back there. And seeing those hallways, those rooms, _my new home_ , had given me mixed feelings.   
  
H.Q should be the one place in Eldarya where I feel safe. Where I’m surrounded by people who care about my safety, my state of mind, my well being.   
  
I’ve made friends there, despite everything that happened when I first arrived. There are many people there who care for me, I know, so I don’t understand the dread that settled in my stomach from being there.   
  
I looked for _him_ , desperate to see his face, to remind myself of my love for him, even when I knew my body was back on that ship, in the arms of our enemy.   
  
When I didn’t see him I panicked. What if something really had happened? What if Lances creatures had reached him.  
  
 _No._  
  
I couldn’t allow myself to think like that.  
  
Huang Hua and Miiko were the first to clue onto my presence. They’d performed a ritual, and I finally had a way out of Lance’s prison. With the Oracle’s help I’d told them where we were heading.   
  
But the Oracle… the one, true guiding light I had in this world…  
  
She is… _gone._  
  
+  
  
My eyes squeeze shut and I retch into the ocean, my hands sinking into soft sand and the waves rushing over my skin, drenching my clothes.  
  
We’d finally reached Memoria.  
  
The contents of my stomach have been washed away, and I swill a flask of water in my mouth to get rid of the aftertaste.   
  
I don’t dare look at Lance. I can’t let him know that the Oracle is gone, that my worries for my boyfriend have escalated, and that after last night… I can’t even _think_ of him without remembering the way his lips felt on mine, how his hands felt on my skin, how I wanted more… _and more…_  
  
A growl tears from my throat and I splash the fresh, ocean water over my flushed face. Gods, I feel sick to my stomach, and I _hate_ myself for letting my guard down around him. If the Guard are smart they’ll leave me here, abandon me, they won’t dare come looking for me.   
  
_How can I deserve to be rescued after what I’ve done?_  
  
We’d only kissed, but even that was too much. _Too much and not enough, all at once._ I can’t let myself think of my boyfriend, of the one I love, without feeling like vomiting all over again.  
  
Luckily Lance is paying no mind to me, too absorbed with ordering everyone else unload supplies from the ship. I sit in the sand for a while, watching the ocean surge in front of me in swirls of green and blue, listening to the soft waves crashing against the beach.  
  
And then I let out a groan and hold my head in my hands.   
  
I completely, and utterly _loathe_ myself.  
  
“Get her up!” Lance barks after a while, and when one of soldiers grips me by the arm and pulls me to my feet, I don’t even resist. After the days we spent at sea, I feel the fight in me diminishing.   
  
Until we walk into the forest and I freeze, seized up by pain and grief and memories that break my heart over and over again.   
  
“Did you do this on purpose?” I hurry to catch up with Lance, darting in front of him and fixing him with an accusing stare. “Set up camp here?”  
  
He stops, cocking an eyebrow at me and looking thoroughly unimpressed with the question. “Of course, it offers the best tactical advantage. Besides, this forest is well protected by mystical forces.”  
  
I let out a breath and drop my head to avoid his gaze. So, he doesn’t know about Mery after all…   
  
The feeling of leather gloves caress my skin when Lance tilts my chin up, his eyebrows dipped in a concern I’ve never seen before.  
  
“Why?”  
  
I hesitate a moment, his blue eyes locked on mine, tearing down every wall I’d been trying to build up against him.   
  
“A kid I know was murdered here,” I admit, well aware of the soldiers setting up camp around us, pretending not to eavesdrop. “It’s… unsettling to be here.”  
  
His face softens ever so slightly, his fingers tracing the side of my face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”  
  
My mouth parts when his thumb trails over my bottom lip. Did he just… _apologize?_  
  
“But we’re not moving.”  
  
My eyes turn hard and I step back from him, gritting my teeth to stop from spitting something horrible. Instead, I turn to storm off towards camp but he catches me by the arm instead, staring down at me strangely, almost amused.  
  
“What?” I snap at him, thoroughly pissed off by the ungracious smirk that is tilting his lips higher and higher.  
  
“You’ve been here before. How about you give me a tour.”  
  
It’s not a question, but the last thing I want right now is to be around Lance. The way he makes my breath hitch and my skin tingle is enough to make me mad, but the blatant disregard that he has for anyone around him drives me _insane._   
  
I can’t forget why I’m here. I can’t forget what he’s making me do. I’m his prisoner, and instead of acting like it I’m letting him get far too close to me.  
  
He was right when he said he was my monster. He haunts me, breaks me down, makes me feel like I am not myself.   
  
It has to stop.   
  
I give a reluctant nod of my head, pushing past him and walking towards the ruins of Memoria without a word. The thought of being alone with Lance again unsettles me, but the more time I can spend away from this cursed forest, the better.   
  
We walk around the island together, and the places we visit are so filled with energies and memories that they manage to lift my spirits a little. Lance takes interest in the history of the ruins, and I find myself both in awe of and disquieted by his intelligence.   
  
I begin to see patterns behind the way he thinks. The extremities behind his opinions and beliefs. I thought him reckless and unpredictable once. Now I’m starting to think that I might have been wrong.   
  
There’s something dangerous, even _aggressive_ about the things he says, but I can’t help but be curious about what else he knows about this world. What else he wants _me_ to know.  
  
When we reach the forgotten cliff, I stand back in the ruins, letting the cool sea air rush over my skin, thread through my long hair. Still, I’m impressed by Lance’s knowledge. He’s learned in Greek, he has a thorough knowledge of history. A far cry from the chaos and death he’s been responsible for in the past.   
  
I watch him carefully as he steps towards the edge of the cliff, my senses on high alert. He has his back to me, thoroughly engrossed in the temple ruins, and a thought crawls into my mind.  
  
A thought so dark and cruel I can hardly believe it’s mine. _I could end it all, right here, right now_. One push and he’d be gone, that’s all it would take.  
  
I hesitate, my thoughts at war with each other, thoroughly locked in combat.   
  
When he turns to me again, his blue eyes bright, determined, _alive_ , I realize with a pang in my chest that I never would have done it. I couldn’t hurt him, no matter who he is and what he’s done. I couldn’t stand to bring him harm.   
  
And now I know, I’m in _much_ more trouble than I had thought.   
  
+

  
I sit around the campfire that night, extending a hand towards the flames and watching the shadows dance on skin that’s turned golden from days spent in the sun.   
  
The night is cold, and most of the soldiers have gathered around the fire, talking among themselves. Lance sits further away with a couple of men, discussing what I can only assume are their plans for the time spent here.   
  
I’d asked a few questions of the soldiers, curious to discover their reasons for following Lance, and surprised when I actually received answers. I learned things I know I never would have if I had been home in H.Q. Things that fill me with both dread and understanding.   
  
These people are willing to follow the dragon into death, all to bring down a world they believe does not deserve to survive.   
  
It isn’t long before I realize that Lance isn’t talking anymore, but listening. I wonder briefly if I should be more careful with what I’m saying, but then decide it doesn’t really matter.  
  
As the night goes on, I grow sleepy and warm next to the fire, my mind reeling with thoughts and confusion. Until someone grabs me by the arm and hauls me to my feet, and I let out a surprised yelp as Lance half drags me with him.  
  
“Stop!” I yell, pulling myself free and squaring off against him.  
  
His eyes burn into mine and he stands a good half a foot taller than me, but I don’t back down. I have no intention of being anywhere near him tonight. I know I have to stop this… _whatever_ it is between us, before it goes too far.

“You better keep that mouth shut,” He barks at me, grabbing my wrist again. “Unless you want to be gagged for the night.”

I try to break free again, but he doesn’t let go as he stomps towards his tent, pulling me with him.

“You are _such_ an asshole,” I spit, pushing against his arm, and he lets out a dark laugh.

“I’ve been called worse.”

Eventually he tires of my struggling and lets go, giving an impatient sigh as he waves a dismissive hand in front of him. “It’s either sleep in here with me, or bunk with one of the soldiers. Those are your options.”  
  
I hesitate, weighing up his words. I know even less about the others than I do about him. And while I don’t trust him, I know, against my better judgement, that I’m beginning to feel more comfortable with him.

 _Goddamn him._  
  
With a low growl of impatience I push past him into the tent, and he lets out an amused breath, closing the entrance and dousing the oil lamp in the corner.   
  
He slips into the bed beside me, but I’ve already turned away from him, determined not to have a repeat of last night. It doesn’t help that my heart pounds wildly when he’s next to me, that my skin turns electric and the only thing that can soothe it is his touch.   
  
“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are when you’re angry?” He purrs against my skin, placing a kiss on my shoulder, and then a second one.  
  
I keep ignoring him, still mad as hell, but I know he doesn’t miss the way my breath hitches in my throat. And he certainly doesn’t miss the way I tug my bottom lip between my teeth, stifling the sounds he’s attempting to draw from me.   
  
His hand snakes over my waist, under my shirt where it trails lazily over my stomach. Every inch of my skin burns under his touch and when a shiver runs through me he huffs a quiet laugh. _He hates you_ , I remind myself.

But he already knows I’m failing.   
  
His lips run over my neck, so slowly, and still I try to ignore it. But his touch sets off something in me that I can’t ignore. A heat that spreads through my body, a tingle that runs down to my toes, and when his fingers trail lower, _lower_ still, until they’re teasing the hem of my pants, I shatter. 

“I _hate you_ so much,” I turn my head to say against his lips, letting him kiss me long and deep, completely powerless against him. 

He smirks darkly against my mouth and I know, _I know,_ I’m a fool for being so _weak._

“Lie to me again,” His voice is a breath as he slips a hand down my pants and I inhale sharply. “Tell me you want me to stop.”

_I don’t want you to stop…_

I bite down on my lip to keep from making a sound. I’ve never let anyone touch me like this before, except… _no_ , I can’t think of him right now. I _don’t want_ to think of him.

Lance’s fingers glide over the spot between my legs and I gasp, letting him catch the sound with his lips. A low burn spreads through my core and I squeeze my eyes shut, my mind fixed on nothing but his touch.

“Tell me you don’t want more.”

_I want more…_

He slips a finger inside me, and then a second, and his name is forming on my lips before I can even think to stop it.   
  
“Tell me you’re not mine." 

_I’m…_

He kisses me again, all but devouring my lips while his fingers move inside me, building and building that heat that threatens to break me apart.  
  
A soft moan falls from my lips and when he pulls his fingers out, wet and warm, he rubs my clit in circles until my hands are tangled in his shirt, pulling him closer, _closer_ , and it feels _so good_ I can’t take it anymore.   
  
My back arches, my hips grinding into his touch, and when I fall apart, his name is the only thing on my lips, in my thoughts, in my soul. Pleasure tears through me, washing over me in a wave of fire and ice and when it begins to ebb afterwards I close my eyes, waiting for the nausea and disgust to hit me.  
  
But it never comes.  
  
Lance pulls me against him, his chest against my back and his arm around my waist and I relax into him, letting out a deep, shaky breath.   
  
"Sleep,” He commands softly, his voice a warm breath against my hair. “Tomorrow, you’ll lead me to the dragons.” 

+++  
 **SIX**  
+++

The memory of the time I spent here on Memoria with the ones I love hits me like a ton of bricks.   
  
_Ezarel, Nevra, Valkyon, Leiftan_ … we were all here. Not even two weeks ago. If only we knew then what was going to happen.  
  
Lance kicks at the ashes of the fire, the last remnants of our camp on this island. He’s different this morning… even more impatient than usual. I try not to think of his lips on mine last night. Of his hands in all the places they shouldn’t be.  
  
The very thought of it makes me shiver, only now it’s not in disgust. And somehow… that’s much more dangerous.   
  
“So,” Lance turns to me, slow and deliberate. “Where should we go?”

Thinking about my promise to Fafnir is becoming increasingly difficult. Some small, dark part of me wants to tell Lance everything. Some spiteful creature in me begs to see the Guard fall for all they’ve done. For taking my past, my memories, my family.  
  
But I won’t. _I can’t._  
  
“I’m not telling you where the dragons are,” I seethe through my teeth, my resolve as hard as stone as Lance steps towards me, his gaze lazily raking over my face.   
  
His lips tilt into a smile, but his eyes are hard, and I know whatever thread of patience he has left will not hold for long. I try not to recoil when his gloved hand curls around my throat and he looks down at me through eyes that are unnaturally cold.   
  
“Where are they?”  
  
My throat constricts under the pressure of the hand he tightens around my throat and my fingers pull at his iron grip, but to no avail. Our eyes lock, and I try desperately not to let my fear show through shaking hands and trembling lips.  
  
But I’m afraid I’m failing.   
  
And even worse than his cold intimidation is the whispering voice that creeps into the back of my mind, chilling me down to the bone.  
  
 _Traitor_ , it says, it’s voice both poisonous and enticing, _you let the monster in and now you want more… more.._.   
  
Eventually he removes his hand from my throat, trailing his gloved fingers down the side of my face instead, so gently I almost forget he would kill me in an instant.   
  
“I’ll ask you one more time,” He whispers quietly, fiercely. “Where are the dragons?”  
  
My breath sticks in my throat before it can spin into wicked words. I can’t betray the dragons. Lance said he only wanted to talk to them, but I’m afraid of what else he might do. While I’d picked up on certain patterns of his over the past few days, he’s still as reckless and unpredictable as ever, and above all, I do not trust him.   
  
“I won’t tell you.”  
  
His eyes flash with fire and for a moment I think he’s going to strike me. Instead, he takes in a sharp breath, brushing some non-existent lint from his shoulder and looking away as if my noncooperation is of little consequence to him.   
  
“Fine. Follow me.”  
  
His shoulders are tight when he takes the lead up to the forgotten cliff and I hang back until I’m forced to move by the soldiers behind me. A sense of dread hangs over me like a storm cloud ready to break. When we get to the top of the cliff the wind is howling fiercely, like a great beast ready to devour us all.   
  
An ill omen, if anything.   
  
Before I can think of much else Lance takes me by the arm and pulls me forward and I yelp when he holds me over the side of the cliff, my feet treading air and my hands grasping his arm to keep myself from falling.  
  
“ _Lance_ …” My voice is pleading, but his eyes are unfaltering, his gaze as hard as steel and stone.   
  
My heart pounds in my chest and the fear rolls over me thick and relentless. If he lets go I’ll fall, and judging by the rocks below, I won’t survive.   
  
But maybe that’s enough, a small part of my mind tells me, Fafnir put his trust in me to save Eldarya. Maybe, by denying Lance access to the dragons, even if it means my death, Eldarya will be safe.  
  
I close my eyes, reluctantly preparing myself to fall into oblivion when suddenly he pulls me back, and when my feet touch solid ground I can’t help but let out a sigh of relief.   
  
_I don’t want to die._  
  
Lance wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me closer to him, his gloved fingers tilting my chin upwards. His face has changed, and I would say that it had softened if it weren’t for the malicious glint behind icy blue eyes.  
  
“You obviously have no regard for your own life,” He says softly, dangerously. “What about those you love?”  
  
I stiffen immediately. I know the members of the Guard haven’t always treated me right, but I had come to care about them. Perhaps more than I should.   
  
“The nurse, Ewelein,” Lance continues, his face so close to mine the warmth of his breath rolls over my skin. “She would have been useful to me if she wasn’t so righteous.”  
  
“Don’t touch her,” I spit venomously, and his grip tightens on my chin while he looks me over, amused.   
  
“Oh?”  
  
His lips tilt into that cruel smile I’ve become so familiar with, and it takes all I have not to stomp down on his foot in spite.  
  
“What about the elf? I hear you and he have become _very_ good friends,” He purrs, and my heart seizes in my chest.  
  
 _Ezarel…  
_  
“I’ll take you to the dragons.”  
  
My lips are moving before I can stop them, but I already knew he won when he mentioned my friends names. Perhaps I should never have let them become a weakness, but it’s too late now.   
  
So what choice do I have?  
  
Lance leans forward, his lips only a breath apart from mine as he smiles, cold and cruel.   
  
“Good.”  
  
My eyes narrow into slits of violet and I want to push him off the cliff if only to get rid of that self-satisfied smirk. I should’ve pushed him when I had the chance.   
  
“ _Monster,_ ” The word falls from my lips in a venomous whisper.   
  
“ _Liar,_ ” He echoes, with a dark and devious grin.  
  
I tear away from him and head back down the cliff.  
  
Towards the dragons.  
  
+  
  
When we finally reach the temple, my legs stiff from walking, I see something changed in Lance. His eyes, once bright with amusement, now burn with a certain madness.   
  
I watch as he steps up to the doors, which are still as magnificent and stately as ever, and runs a gloved hand over the stone, his fingers trembling with the anticipation.   
  
Only now does it occur to me what this moment must be for him. He and Valkyon are presumed the last of their race, so how must it feel for him to enter the domain of his ancestors.   
  
“What’s the password?”  
  
He doesn’t even look at me when he speaks, consumed instead by the etchings and markings in the grand door in front of us. Stepping towards him, I repeat the words I had used to open the door the last time I was here, showing him the two symbols to press in unison.  
  
When it doesn’t work the first time, he tries again, and when that too fails, he turns on me in a fury, his voice low and threatening.   
  
“You better not be lying to me.”  
  
“I’m not,” I protest, glancing over the doors. The same words had worked the last time I was here, so why not now?  
  
“Then you do it!” He takes me by the arm and pushes me in front of the door, and with no other choice, I comply.  
  
When the door remains closed, my eyebrows dip in confusion. Fafnir had been clear. All the children of the Oracle and the chosen ones were welcome in the dragons realm.   
  
So why are the doors not opening?  
  
The only explanation I can think of is the dragons knowing of Lance’s intentions and keeping their doors closed to him. Nothing else makes sense.   
  
A sharp pain rips through my scalp and I cry out as Lance grabs me by the hair and pulls me to him, his eyes burning with a hatred I’ve never seen before.  
  
“Stop _messing_ with me.”  
  
“I told you I’m not!”  
  
“Then why aren’t they opening?”  
  
He lets go and I fall to the ground ungracefully, my hands hitting stone and dust as I back away from him. When he advances on me again my hand falls on a nearby rock, as big as a tennis ball, and I hurl it at him, striking the side of his face.   
  
His teeth grit together as scarlet blood trickles from above his eyebrow and down the side of his face. I don’t dare move, my heart beating like a drum in my chest. He’s going to kill me, for sure. I feel around behind me for a second rock, anything to use as a weapon, but to no avail.   
  
Lance laughs, swiping a hand over his forehead and smearing the blood on his skin. He doesn’t look as furious as I expected him to. In fact he looks quite… impressed.   
  
“If I find out you’re lying to me, I’ll kill all of your pathetic friends and make you watch.”  
  
“Not if I kill you first,” I snarl, and his lips twist into that infuriating half-cocked grin. The one that makes my blood boil and my skin pulse.   
  
“I’d like to see you try.”  
  
When he turns back to his men I push myself up and dust myself off, glaring darkly at the back of his head.   
  
I hate him now more than ever.   
  
“Orion! Head back to camp and find Bolgur. His information on the island has proved utterly useless. He won’t fail me again,” Lance barks at his soldiers, taking one last look over his shoulder at the door before he disappears into the darkness of the caves.   
  
I hang back with the soldiers on the walk back to camp. This island has changed Lance. On the boat he was almost gentle, but here… I’m afraid his quest for the dragons is driving him mad.  
  
I had fallen into his trap. I had let him get close to me, let him _use_ me, like the stupid little girl he thinks I am. Never again.   
  
My one accomplishment during my time with the dragon is that now he thinks me complacent. He’ll let his guard down again, and the next time he does, I won’t hesitate to strike.   
  
We arrive at camp to furious shouting and a crowd of soldiers circled around what seems like a fight. I push through a couple of them hastily, trying to see what the commotion is. When I duck around a couple of the men, I finally see what is holding their attention.   
  
The dragon has a faerie pinned in the dirt, blood streaking the poor souls face which is quickly turning purple with Lance’s hands around his throat. My blood runs cold and I let out a gasp. 

_He’s going to kill him._  
  
“Stop!” I shout, pushing my way through the last few soldiers and into the clearing. I’ll be damned if I stand back and let him do this. “Lance, _stop!_ ”  
  
I pull at his shoulder, attempting to break his grip on the faerie, but he’s unmovable, and with a hand he pushes me back and I fall down into the dirt. In an instant I’m on my feet again, nudging myself in between Lance and the faerie and pushing against him until he finally releases his grip.   
  
In an instant he grabs me by the throat and pins me under him, but not before I pull the dagger from the sheathe on his leg and hold it between us, the sharp blade pressed against the skin of his throat.   
  
His hands are around my throat, pressure tightening, the weight of his body pinning me to the ground. He hasn’t even contested the blade I hold to his throat, too far steeped in his own anger to care. Now is the chance I’ve been waiting for. With one slice across the throat I can end him and put an end to this madness.  
  
“Stop,” I gasp out, pressing the blade harder against his throat and watching crimson drops of blood spill over the edge. “ _Lance._ ”  
  
I hesitate, even as black spots dance across my vision, and I wonder if I do indeed have a death wish. Because it suddenly occurs to me that I don’t want to hurt him, but I will if I have to. Our eyes are locked, violet against ice-blue, and finally, _finally,_ I see the rage beginning to dissipate in him. He let’s go of me and pulls back, pushing himself to his feet and running a trembling hand through silver hair.  
  
And then he turns, soldiers flinging themselves out of his path as he storms towards his tent.  
  
I lay still for a few seconds, breathing hard. His blade is still poised in my hand, his blood still staining the edges, and the eyes of dozens of terrified soldiers on me.   
  
Eventually I push myself up, letting the dagger fall forgotten with a clang beside me. I glance back before following Lance, making sure the others are helping the faerie, finding he’s in capable hands.  
  
When I enter the tent Lance is sitting on the edge of the bed, blood dripping from his hands, his throat, above his eyebrow. A wave of anger surges through me, but also one of pity, another of understanding, and another of… something else entirely.   
  
Silently, I find some water and a scrap of cloth and kneel in front of him, taking his hand in mine and cleaning the wound gently, listening to his breath become slower and calmer with each second that passes.   
  
“Why did you stop me?” He says after a while, his voice a low rasp. His eyes aren’t on me, instead firmly fixed on the wall of the tent, distant and unfocused.   
  
I inhale sharply, steeling myself, rinsing out the bloody cloth before moving on to his other hand and gently cleaning away the blood. “You were going to kill him.”  
  
“He gave me false information. You should have let me.”  
  
“I couldn’t.”  
  
“It’s not _your_ place to stop me!” He snarls, pulling his hand back and fixing me with a glacial stare. “You’re lucky I didn’t kill you instead!”  
  
“It’s not my fault the dragons don’t want to talk to you!” I spit at him, my fear thoroughly dissipated. “So don’t take it out on me!”  
  
He hits the water bottle out of my hand and it flies across the tent, water spilling out onto the ground. Then he stands, towering above me, tall and imposing.  
  
“Watch that goddamn mouth of yours or I’ll cut out your tongue.”  
  
I stay where I am but I stand my ground against him. He could have killed me today, but he didn’t. I could have killed him… _but I didn’_ t. There’s much more going on here than we both want to admit.   
  
“What is wrong with you!”  
  
“You really wanna know? I have a plan, and you… _you_ are nothing but a distraction. I should have killed you when I had the chance.”  
  
“But you didn’t. And I don’t think you will.”  
  
He snarls and paces away from me, circling the tent like a wild animal.   
  
“You know nothing about me.”  
  
“I’m starting to learn.”  
  
He grabs me by the arm and hurls me to me feet, his fingers digging into flesh and skin.  
  
“You won’t kill me,” I insist, and the muscles in his jaw stiffen as he stares me down.   
  
“That doesn’t mean I don’t want to.”  
  
I falter, my breath fast and heavy. He finally admitted it. He won’t kill me after all.  
  
“Why?” I ask, because I need to hear the answer. He turns his back on me and for a good minute I think he’s not going to give me one  
  
“Because if I kill you, you can’t look at me like that anymore,” His voice is quiet but his eyes are fierce, and when his fingers take my chin and tilt it upwards my breath turns ragged.  
  
“You know the things I’ve done. Things that are unforgivable. And still you look at me like… _that_.”  
  
He studies me as harshly as always, until his eyes flicker to my throat and something in him comes undone.   
  
“You make me _feel_ , and I can’t stand it,” His voice is a breath as he leans his head down and presses his lips against my throat, soothing the burn of where his hands were previously. “I want it to stop.”  
  
“I want _you_ to stop,” I breathe, ever the traitor as my head tilts back to give him better access to my neck and his fingers thread through my hair. “Stop threatening me, stop hurting me, just… _stop_.”  
  
He huffs a laugh against my skin, speaking in between soft kisses, “You don’t get it, do you? I’m the bad guy. That’s what I do.”  
  
“You don’t have to be.”  
  
His lips quirk and he pulls back enough to look me in the eyes. “You’re cute. But you’re not enough to stop me.”  
  
He smirks darkly and my blood turns to fire, annoyance seeping through my veins.   
  
“You’re a bastard,” I spit, though his lips only tilt higher.   
  
“You’re _beautiful._ ”  
  
He slips a hand behind my head and pulls me to him roughly, his mouth claiming mine like it’s his. Like it’s _always_ been his.   
  
I push against his chest for only a second before I give in and I curse myself for my weakness, curling my fingers in the front of his shirt and pulling him closer.   
  
“I hate you,” I whisper against his lips, because I need to make sure that he knows.   
  
He pushes me back down against the bed, forcing my legs apart and pinning my arms above my head as he kisses me so hard I see stars. A rush hits my stomach and the spot between my legs starts pounding, desperate for his touch.   
  
“I hate you too,” He growls and kisses me with a hunger I’ve never felt before.  
My body melts against his, my fingers digging into his back and pulling him closer, _closer._  
  
And I _hate_ him. I _hate_ myself. I _hate_ how good he makes me feel.   
  
Heat radiates between us, the feeling prickling over my skin, between my legs. His lips trail over my jaw, my throat, and when a low moan escapes me he smirks and flicks his tongue over flushed skin. 

“You’re going to _beg_ for me to fuck you,” He says darkly, and I know he has me exactly where he wants me. “And it will be the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard," 

His mouth sinks into mine again, and I can’t help but to give into him completely. I want him to control me, to possess me, to take this sick obsession we have for each other and twist it into something beautiful.   
  
I tighten my thighs around his waist, feeling the slickness between my legs, the way I’m throbbing for him so hard it’s almost painful. His fingers trail under my shirt and when his hand moves over the curve of my breast I’m so far gone I can’t even protest. 

“ _Beg for it_ ,” He growls, his teeth nipping at my neck as my head falls back and my lips part in anticipation. 

The rustle of the tent door has my eyes snapping open, and when I look over one of the soldiers is standing in the doorway, looking nothing short of terrified.  
  
"S-sir,” He stumbles, addressing Lance who’s so furious at the interruption he’s practically trying to murder the man with his eyes.   
  
“You need to come and see this.” 

++++  
 **SEVEN  
** ++++

**Lance POV**

"What is it?" I snarl, exiting the tent in a fury and stalking behind the soldier with murder in my veins.   
  
Really, I should be thankful for the interruption. But I _almost_ had her. Almost had the words falling from her lips.  
  
The thought of taking her, of having her surrender to me entirely, is made even sweeter by the knowledge that there are others who love her. The daemon, the vampire... perhaps even my own brother.   
  
I swear to myself that I don’t care, _let them love her_ , but I know I’d strike down anyone who dared touch her again.   
  
Because once I have her completely, I’ll be too far gone.   
  
_Obsession was always in my nature._  
  
She calls me a monster, though every time she says it I know she believes it less and less.  
  
And every time I look at her... _I fall deeper._  
  
*

 **Guardienne POV**  
  
I fall asleep while he’s gone. I don’t know what the matter was, exactly, but it sounded urgent, and silently I thank the soldier for interrupting us before things got too far.  
  
 _What was I thinking?_  
  
He wants me to beg for him. Well, that’s never going to happen. I might be weak when it comes to him, but I think I still have enough fight in me to deny him that.  
  
At least, I hope I do.   
  
When I wake in the morning he hasn’t returned. Sleepily, I rub at my eyes before forcing myself to get up and get dressed. When I leave the tent the camp is empty save one lonesome soldier.  
  
Orion looks up from where he sits on a rock, near the ashes of the fire, his mouth set in a grim line and his armor strapped tight.  
  
"Where is everyone?" I ask as he stands, giving him a moment to adjust the sword that hangs at his side.  
  
"Working," He says, short and blunt, and something tells me he's not willing to be as talkative as he was a couple of nights ago. "We’re going for a walk."  
  
"Where?" I ask, ignoring his tired sigh as I let him push me in front of him and set the course.  
  
"Wherever you want."   
  
_End of discussion_ , I think to myself with a subtle roll of my eyes. These followers of Lance's sure are unpredictable when it comes to conversation.  
  
I don't know where I'm supposed to go, exactly, but I place one foot in front of the other anyway. Lance is up to something, I know that much, and I also know it can't be anything good.  
  
And then another thought enters my head, creeping in like a poison threading through the veins of my mind. Lance got what he wanted from me. The location of the dragons. What else could he possibly need me for?  
  
I chance a glance over my shoulder back at Orion, his face set like stone. Is this how he's chosen to end it? By sending his most trusted soldier to take me to some remote part of the island and execute me?  
  
No, I can't believe that. I won't.  
 _  
He won't kill me_.   
  
I walk leisurely to the beach, Orion trailing behind a little way. A few men had stayed on the ship, resting under the warmth of the early morning sun. The Kraken can be seen further out, barely visible but still there, guarding the entrance to the island.   
  
Circling the forest, I head up towards the forgotten cliffs, which has easily become my favorite part of the island. The view from the top is breathtaking, and I get a certain feeling here. A kind of serenity.  
  
While I try to enjoy the beauty of the island, I can’t shake the feeling that Lance is up to something. That he’s _always_ up to something. And I wonder... what would it take for him to stop.   
  
Looking out over the ocean, I watch the way the golden sunlight dances over the water, how the sea spray crashes against the cliffs.  
  
Memoria is beautiful in many ways. I imagine what it would be if someone decided to rebuild it. I imagine a great library dedicated to languages, and history and art. I imagine paved streets, with people free to laugh, and chatter and trade.   
  
And I imagine _him_ at the head of it all. Leading his people towards a future, rather than death.   
  
A home worthy of a dragon.   
  
A deafening roar echoes through the rocks beneath my feet and I grasp a crumbling pillar to keep my balance, stones trembling over the rocky ground before they settle once more.   
  
_Lance._  
  
My feet are moving before my mind has the chance to catch up to them, but I knew he was up to something. _I knew it._  
  
Feet pounding over paved roads, I skid through the ruins of Memoria, Orion shouting at me from behind, but not quick enough to keep up.  
  
 _What has he done?_  
  
"She’s not supposed to be here!" Someone yells as I tear through the ruined library and into the tunnel, too small and quick for them to catch up, my heart hammering in my chest as I get closer and closer towards the doors to the dragons.   
  
"What are you doing here?" Lance turns on me, furious, as I approach, taking in deep breaths to steady my pounding heart and shaking hands.  
  
"What happened?" I ask instead, my voice breathless, though I think I already know the answer when I see the thick smoke obscuring the doors to the dragons. He's trying to blow his way in there.   
  
Blindly searching the cavern, I feel something else. Some dark and ancient power. It penetrates the air, sits uncomfortably on my skin.  
  
There's no way this is going to work.  
  
"Not what I expected," Lance let's out a growl of frustration, dismissing me with a wave of his gloved hand. "Orion, take her back to camp."  
  
Lance turns back to the doors one last time and I scowl darkly at the back of his head as Orion takes my arm and marches me through the tunnels. I stay silent the entire time, brooding over Lance's decision to be so reckless  
  
To _always_ be so reckless.  
  
It's only when we reach the crumbling library, surrounded by the stares of the other soldiers, that I hear Lance's voice behind me, short and sharp.  
  
"Is the battering ram ready?"  
  
"Not yet," Someone answers, a female. "We'll have it ready by morning."  
  
"A battering ram?" I tear myself from Orions grip to turn on Lance, disbelief coursing through me like fire. "Are you stupid?"  
  
"Watch your mouth," Lance steps up to point a finger in my face, his eyes cold with rage.  
  
"If explosives didn't work then how to you expect to get in with a battering ram?" I shout at him, kicking at Orion who's trying to drag me away once again. "The dragons _don't want to talk to you!"_  
  
The unmistakable flash of white-hot anger scorches his face, his hand shooting to the pommel of the long-sword strapped to his back.   
  
"Orion, take her back to camp before I run her through."  
  
Giving Lance one last, narrowed stare, I push past Orion and storm back to camp myself. This place is making him stupid and reckless.

 _This place is driving him mad._  
  
That night, I'm confined to the tent. Lance doesn't join me, and to be quite honest, I'm glad for it. I pace the small space relentlessly, a thousand questions eating at me from the inside out.   
  
_What is he thinking? Does his recklessness know no bounds?_

Perhaps I shouldn’t have shown him the way to the dragons after all, no matter the cost. Fafnir had put his trust in me, and I’d broken it. And like a fool I let myself fall into Lance’s traps, over and over again.   
  
Eventually I fall asleep, exhausted by my constant overthinking, but when I sleep, I dream of _him_. We’re back on the boat, under the veil of an inky, midnight sky. He stands on the bow, tall and proud, staring out at the horizon. When I step closer he turns and holds out a hand, his voice soft and determined.   
  
_“The North Star will guide us home.”_  
  
Bolting up in my bed, I'm distracted from the remnants of my dream by noises in the night. The sounds of shouts and hastily donned armor. Morning hasn’t yet arrived, and when I poke my head out of the tent, Lance is ordering everyone to head to the ruins.  
  
"What's going on?" I ask when he notices me, taking my arm and dragging me with him. I put up little fight this time, though I’ve thoroughly had enough of his manhandling.

He looks at me, and his eyes are strange. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was anxious. His icy stare fixes on me, and his voice is thin when he finally speaks.   
  
"You'll see."  
  
We reach the central ruins to find dozens of Draflayels swooping through the sky, their delicate wings blooming with iridescence and their sweet song hanging in the midnight air. 

I take in a deep breath, watching the tiny creatures sweep and dive on the night winds. It’s a magnificent sight, and one that only adds to the beauty of this hidden place, makes me wish it was something _more_ than it is.   
  
The scrape of metal catches my attention, and when I turn towards the sound Lance has unsheathed his sword, ready to strike the creatures down.  
  
"Stop!" I order him, placing a hand on his arm to keep him from hurting the creatures as his face turns hard.   
  
"Get out of my way," He growls, pushing past me and slicing his blade through the air. With a shriek, the Draflayels disband, avoiding the dragons wrath.  
  
"No, listen to me," I pull at Lance's arm again, standing firm when he turns his furious l gaze on me. "The last time it was the same. They came to me."  
  
I tilt my head to the Draflayels, who cautiously continue their singing, swooping lower once more, though still hesitant to trust us.   
  
"That's how I found the dragons."  
  
"What?" Lance raises his eyebrows, disbelieving, but I'm already following the creatures. They've changed their tune, becoming more insistent as they turn and fly in a different direction.  
  
"They want us to follow them. Come on!"  
  
I take Lance by the hand, and to my surprise, he clasps mine back and follows. The draflayels keep ahead of us, dipping and diving through the night air as we let them lead us deeper onto the island.

Our hands stay linked, and I quietly marvel at the way his touch both warms and chills me to the bone, how he lets me lead him without protest. The stone-hearted dragon. _The walking contradiction._

It's only when we reach the forgotten cliffs that the draflayels stop, circling the sky above, their song growing louder and louder as more creatures join their gentle, melodious hurricane.   
  
It's like a calling. A beckoning. It seems to say _this is where you are supposed to be,_ and in turn I respond with _I am here.  
_  
A strange energy settles on my skin, as light as mist, and Lance tenses beside me. I already know he has no love for companions, and these seem to be setting him on edge. I squeeze his hand before I drop it and step forward, towards the edge of the cliff, towards the center of the draflayels.   
  
They part, inviting me to join their dance before they circle me once more. They speak to me, their voices like an otherworldly whisper, a song of sacrifice and loss. When I raise a hand to them they seem to answer, their tiny wings stirring the air, lighting the darkness with their luminescent bodies.   
  
_It's mesmerizing_. The energy turns warms and cool all at once and I a shiver runs through me, igniting the blood in my veins. When their song comes to a peak, a soft light falls down on the cliffs like a silk veil, and when the creatures fly away I step back from the light, one foot behind the other.  
  
Until I bump into a hard wall of muscle, and a small gasp escapes me.  
  
"It's only me." Lance says softly, a hand on my arm gently holding me in place. When I turn my head his eyes are fixed on me, and even if I wanted to, I couldn’t look away. _So cold_. So beautiful under the light of the moon.   
  
With his chest pressed against my back, my heart races. I don't know what these feelings are that I have when I'm around him. I should be afraid. I should be building up my walls, strengthening my guard. 

Instead, I lean closer to him, feeling his warmth against me, and I know something strange is happening between us.   
  
Something I’m tired of fighting.

++++  
 **EIGHT**  
++++

 **Lance POV**  
  
Her eyes are bright when she turns to me, her chest rising and falling with short, sharp breaths. My hand is on her arm, keeping her close, my own breathing slightly unsteady, though I try not to show it.  
  
She calms immediately at my presence, and I know she’s not afraid of me. Not anymore. And I can’t tell if that impresses me or pisses me off.  
  
It’s barely a moment, gone too fast, before the soft light shining down on the cliffs morph and shift into the form of a great dragon.  
  
My ancestor.  
  
The warmth of her skin forgotten, I gently push her aside and step towards the dragon. Fafnir, he calls himself.  
  
As it turns out, he has much to tell me.  
  
+  
  
 **Erika POV**  
  
He is lost, and confused. Excited and awakened.  
  
Our time with Fafnir, looking into the past, has brought out many emotions in him, and not all of them good. Fafnir trusts him, though the more Lance learns about his past, his family, his mother… I fear his desire for revenge is only growing.  
  
 _The Blue Sacrifice_.  
  
The truth behind the event is terrible, and while I feel for Lance, for the Dragons who gave their lives to save Eldarya, I still sense that the path he’s on is one that will only destroy him.  
  
When Lance disappears the next night, I can’t stop the bubble of worry that grows in me. My heart is pushing me to find him, to understand what is troubling him and to comfort him, if I can.  
  
+  
  
 **Lance POV**  
  
“Lance?”  
  
She’s looking at me in that way again. The way that makes my pulse spike, and my skin warm.  
  
I can’t stand it. I need it to _stop_.  
  
“What do you want?” I growl at her, keeping my guard up. She’s done a good job at chipping away at it this past week, but no more.  
  
She looks surprised, shaking her head to clear whatever thoughts are in there, her voice so small when it finally passes her lips.  
  
“How are you?”  
  
“Why do you care?” I snap back, turning away from her and towards the cliffs, my mind reeling with everything I’ve learned on this godforsaken island. A million questions race through my mind, and I don’t have the time or patience to deal with her right now.  
  
“Despite the fact that you hate me, I’m worried about you.”  
  
That sentence stops me, and I blink at her in surprise. I’m supposed to hate her, but something won’t let me. Something gnaws at my insides, pushing me to be gentle with her, to protect her.  
  
“What?”  
  
She looks away, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth. So small, so weak. I could end her with one stroke of my sword, though I know I won’t.  
  
I hate the fact that I won’t.  
  
So instead I walk away, stopping only when I realize I’m waiting for her to follow like the little puppy-dog she’s become. When I turn back, she looks at me with those big eyes, confusion clouding her face, and I wave an impatient hand for her to follow.  
  
“What are you waiting for? _Come!”_  
  
I set the pace, too lost in my mind to know where my feet are leading me. though trusting them to get me where I need to be. Eventually I look up, finding I’ve halted at the top of the forgotten cliffs, the crash of the raging ocean echoing through the ruins and calming me somehow.  
  
 _Chaos_. It courses through my veins like liquid fire and I grit my teeth, rolling my neck and succumbing to it.  
  
"Do you want to talk? About your mother?” Erika is still behind me, her voice so low I barely hear it over the howling of the savage wind through stone columns.  
  
She’s trying to be nice, but my guard is up, and it must stay that way. I won’t let anything tempt me from my path. _Especially not some silly, little girl._  
  
“Don’t play nice with me. I know that you hate me,” I snarl, surprised that she stands her ground against me and stares me down with those vivid, violet eyes that get to me every goddamn time.  
  
“I hate your actions, not you.”  
  
My chest tightens beneath my armor, eyes narrowing on Erika and her ridiculous inclinations. _Silly girl_ , I repeat to myself. _That’s all she is._  
  
“I do this because I want to.”  
  
She hesitates, her next words poised on the tip of her tongue, and I can’t stop my eyes from flicking over her lips, her neck, part of me wanting desperately to take her in my arms and find a way to distract myself from the anarchy boiling me from the inside out.  
  
My skin warms at the thought, remembering heated touches in the dead of night and the feeling of her lips on mine. I swallow thickly, blood racing to my groin at the thought of my hand between her legs, fingers pushing inside her, eliciting soft, stuttered mewls from between her lips.  
  
“I can’t help but feel that there’s some good left in you.”  
  
She’s still talking, and I stop at that, unsure how to respond. The question of good and evil means little to me. Less than little, in fact. All that I do is through necessity alone.  
  
But there’s one thing that continues to plague me, above all else.  
  
“My mother. I don’t understand…” The words escape before I can stop them, and I turn towards the ocean once more, pretending I’m talking to myself, and not her. “Why did she abandon us instead of sacrificing us too?”  
  
“She was your mother,” Erika says gently, and I feel her stepping towards me. “It’s normal that she wished for her children to know the world for which she sacrificed herself.”  
  
“I would have rather died.”  
  
“What?”  
  
Something small and broken in her voice makes me turn to her. She looks devastated, and that, in turn, makes my stomach tighten uncomfortably. I resist the urge to take her in my arms, even when her wide, horrified eyes sweep over me.  
  
“Don’t say that.”  
  
Instead, I sneer at her, pushing her away in the only way I know how. When I take a step closer, staring her down, she recoils in tandem, and a sense of triumph spreads through me.  
  
“As if it mattered to you.”  
  
“It does…” She says quietly. “I can’t let you say that without reacting.”  
  
She puts a hand on my arm, and I freeze. She’s supposed to be running away from me, not getting closer, and I don’t know how much longer I can keep her at arms length before I explode.  
  
“Talk to me, Lance.”  
  
And so I do. I tell her of my childhood. Of being born in that volcano my mother left us in. Of being raised in a small village, and learning more about our powers.  
  
“The faeries who took us in and raised us were good, and kind. If everyone was like them, I wouldn’t be doing this,” I lean back against one of the many dilapidated stone columns, thinking fondly of my childhood.  
  
Back then, Valkyon and I didn’t know how good we had it. Valkyon would have spent his life in peaceful bliss in that village, but I wanted more. I _needed_ more. And as usual, my little brother followed.  
  
“You can’t punish the world because of the mistakes of a minority,” Erika’s words spark something in me, some deep-seated anger, and I push myself away from the column to bear down on her.  
  
“You don’t know what I know!”  
  
“I do! I was there too.”  
  
We stand barely a foot apart, and she’s so tiny compared to me I could almost laugh at her attempted debate, though I have to admit that the fire in her eyes is impressive.  
  
“You don’t understand. And how could you?” I sneer down at her, my voice deathly cold. “I’m ready to die for my cause. How many people can say that?”  
  
She scoffs, and my eyes narrow on her further. None of my men would dare treat me this way, and she’s lucky I’ve let her get away with it for this long.  
  
“There’s nothing brave about that, Lance,” She spits, disgust dripping from her every word. “In fact, I think you’re a coward.”  
  
“What would you know?” I counter, cutting the conversation short. It’s an easy card to play, throwing her own ignorance in her face. Despite that, she doesn’t back down. I should have known she would never give up so easily, and I have to admit that any ignorance isn’t entirely her fault.  
  
She has the Guard of El to thank for that.  
  
“A brave man would do what was best for others!” She jabs me in the chest, and I have to stop myself from reaching out and breaking her whole, damn hand. “Not obsess about revenge for something he has no control over. Your parents made a choice. _Respect_ that.”  
  
“Don’t you dare speak of them!” I roar at her, seeing her finally flinch in the face of my fury.  
  
And she _should_ be afraid. She should cower before the wrath of a Dragon, though it only ignites my fury further when the little brat takes in a deep breath, steeling herself, her hands clenched into fists at her sides.  
  
“I saw your mother, I saw what she did, and _that_ was true bravery,” Her voice is small, defiant, and her words settle in my bones like white-hot metal. “Fafnir was wrong. _You’re nothing like her._ ”  
  
Launching towards her, I grab her by the arm and pull her close enough to hiss down through gritted teeth. “If you don’t shut your _goddamn_ mouth, I’m going to do it for you,”  
  
“You know it’s true!”  
  
I raise a hand to strike her, stopping abruptly at the last second, and instead letting her go and watching her stumble back a step.  
  
The truth is that if anyone reminds me of my mother, _it’s her._  
  
“They hunted down the survivors,” I spit out, playing the dirtiest card I have left. “Your precious Guard of El. My mother would have never stood for that, and neither will I.”  
  
I’m rewarded by Erika’s horrified expression, and a triumphant grin tilts the corners of my lips.  
  
“Now do you understand? I will destroy this world, and take every one of those pathetic faeries to the grave with me.”  
  
“Times have changed,” She stumbles a little, but the strength behind her words surprise me. "The Guard has changed, you have to believe me. Give up this petty revenge, Lance. Build a better world instead.“  
  
"Why would I bother?”  
  
“For a new home. A new life. Imagine what this place could be with you leading it.”  
  
I stop, looking at the ruins surrounding me with a certain disdain. _Surely, she must be joking._  
  
“Memoria?”  
  
The dip of her eyebrows tells me all I need to know - shes completely serious. She steps towards me timidly, her eyes fixed on mine.  
  
“The ancestral home of the Dragons. I’ve seen what you could do here. This place could be magnificent, if there were someone truly worthy of it.”  
  
“Tell me,” I grit out, giving her a moment to speak despite my mind telling me not to. “Tell me what you see here.”  
  
I listen to her vision, word for word, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t stir something in me. I was built for war, but I liked it far less than I wanted others to know. To study, to research, to learn more about the worlds beyond even this one… that was where my true desires lived.  
  
“And if I stayed on Memoria, rebuilt it… would you stay?” I draw out the words carefully, with a practiced, casual ease. “Would you stay with me? Or crawl back to those pitiful fools in the Guard…”  
  
I tell myself her answer doesn’t matter, that no matter what comes out of her mouth, I’ll never give up my plans for revenge. But some part of me, no matter how small, wants her to say _yes_.  
  
“The Lands of El are my home now, as Earth was before,” He voice wavers, and I would call her a liar if I cared enough to. Instead, I push her closer to the truth.  
  
“If I can build a new home, so can you.”  
  
“Lance, I-”  
  
Waving a dismissive hand, I cut her off. Better not to hear her answer after all.  
  
“It doesn’t matter either way, you’ve seen what faeries are capable of. They smother any light that enters this world. I’m tired of losing the things I care about. I ignorantly fought for a better world… until I realized there is no such thing.”  
  
 _“There is,”_ She stresses, and I see a light in her eyes that I both want to tear down and let consume me. “I promise you, I’ve seen it. Let me show you.”  
  
She holds her hand towards me, and my fingers itch to take it. I _want_ to want this world she speaks of, and I want her at my side, helping me create it. But hatred runs thick through my veins, corrupting any promise of a future, and it refuses to let me give in.  
  
"I must return. I need to understand why my mother chose this world over us.”  
  
The hurt in her eyes is enough to tear my chest apart, but I walk away anyway, hatred spreading deep, _deep_ down through the hollows of my bones.  
  
I won’t stop.

++++  
 **NINE**  
++++

**Erika POV**

"Aengel?"  
  
He knows.  
  
Lance finally knows what I am, what I've been trying to hide all along, and as he tears towards me all I see is red, hot fury burning in his eyes and I can’t hide the fact that I'm _terrified._  
  
"Now I understand why he treasured you so much," his voice is a growl, his usually bright eyes going dark. "If you were so precious to him it was only because he wanted to- _ah!_ "  
  
He falls to his knees, a hand pressed against his chest, and in an instant I'm at his side. I know it's because of his oath, but that doesn't stop the panic that streaks through me.  
  
Because despite him being horrible, and impatient and reckless... I find that I can't bear the thought of anything happening to him.  
  
 _Because I..._  
  
"Let's take him back to the real world," Fafnir interrupts, his deep voice booming around us, and I nod, helping Lance stand.  
  
When we return to the Dragon Temple, it's a struggle to get him to one of the nearby rooms to recover, and he abruptly passes out on the large bed in the center of the room.

I remove what armor I can and then pace for a while, chewing on my nails impatiently while throwing him a few nervous glances. He's out cold, but Fafnir has assured me he'd be alright.  
  
The fact that he thinks I need reassuring is curious all in itself. My throat tightens with the weight of certain realizations.   
  
I think about leaving. I could run right now, while he's asleep, and try to find a way off this island. If I hid for long enough, perhaps down in the tunnels, I could wait this all out until someone comes to find me.  
  
Valkyon, or Ezarel. Leiftan or Nevra.   
  
Or I could find help. Someone to make sure he really will be okay, and ease the worry that burns my chest, despite everything he’s done. The worry that tells me over and over that whatever oath he's made with some Daemon will be the death of him.  
  
Or...  
  
I could stay.  
  
 _I could stay with him._  
  
Before my mind is made up Lance lets out a groan and stirs, bolting upright on the bed and scanning the room wildly.  
  
"Hey, it's okay," I sit next to him, a hand on his arm, and he calms once he comes to realize where he is, running a hand through his silver hair in exasperation.  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"You passed out. You've been out cold for hours, it's already dark out."  
  
He lets out a breath, the tension slipping from him slowly and his shoulders relaxing as he curses softly.  
  
"We'll have to stay here the night."  
  
I nod, swallowing down the risks of being stuck here all night, in this room alone...  
  
"I'll get you some water."  
  
There's a pitcher on a table against the far wall, and I pour a glass, all too aware of Lance's gaze on me. I try to concentrate on the crystal clear liquid filling the glass, but its no use.   
  
He knows what I am.  
  
I swallow thickly, nerves fraying as I try to clear the thought from my head. _It doesn't make any difference_ , I tell myself. _Not to him anyway._  
  
It's only when I feel him come up behind me that I start to doubt the truth of those words. His presence is so intimidating that I can do nothing but stand still, waiting for his inevitable reaction.  
  
"You lied to me," he says eventually, his voice dark and still rough from sleep.  
  
I put the pitcher back down in front of me, though I don’t doubt he doesn't see the way my hands tremble. But what he can’t possibly know is how hard I’m trying not to lean back into him and feel his body pressed against mine.

How my struggle has hit a peak and threatens to break at any moment, despite the consequences.

"You sound surprised."  
  
He huffs a laugh and his warm breath hits the back of my neck, fueling my inner struggle. My pulse quickens when I remember the last time we were alone together like this, how we almost...  
  
"I always knew you were lying, I just didn't know what you were trying to hide," he says, and this time his fingers run up my arm so slow, bringing goosebumps to the surface. "An Aengel. That's a stones throw away from a Daemon, you know."  
  
I whip around and face him head on, eyes full of fury even as the heat between my legs spreads and my core pulses at the sight of his heavy-lidded eyes staring me down.  
  
"I'm _not_ a Daemon."  
  
His lips tilt, but the smile doesn't reach his eyes, and I want to do something to fix that. He looks tired, and weak... like his will to fight me is buried somewhere deep, at least for the moment.   
  
"'No, you're not."  
  
He raises a hand to tuck a strand of loose hair behind my ear, and it's perhaps the gentlest thing I've ever seen him do. A soft breath escapes me as our eyes lock and I feel that for the first time, he's _truly_ seeing me.  
  
"You're too good for this world, Erika. There aren't many things I regret in my life, but involving you in this war... it might just be one of them."  
  
His voice is quiet, and I wonder if he meant for me to hear it at all, though still I stare at him in disbelief, a cold chill dousing the warm hum of my body as I try to wrap my head around his words.  
  
"What are you saying?"  
  
He takes a step back, that cruel, cold smile slipping into place, and it takes all I have not to reach out for him and bring him back.  
  
"I'm saying... you're free to leave, if that's what you choose."  
  
"You want me to go?"  
  
With the tilt of his head he stares me down, those bright eyes narrowed into cruel slits of blue. I have to remember that to him, this is all a game.

I have to remember that he doesn’t care for me.  
  
"Yes. I want you out of my sight."  
  
His jaw clenches tight and when he struggles to meet my eyes... it’s hard to remember anything past the way my soul shatters.

"You're a liar."  
  
My voice trembles on the words and he huffs a laugh, but it’s a bitter sound, devoid of all warmth. When he walks away from me something in my chest caves, and I can't make sense of it. He's giving me a chance to leave, and I know I have to take it.  
  
I have to walk away from him and never look back.  
  
 _"Lance..."_  
  
His name falls from my lips before I can stop it and I know I have a choice to make. I see the course I have to take, spread right out in front of me, and it starts with walking to that door and leaving this room.  
  
But despite knowing the course, my feet won't move, and my heart won't let me go.   
  
Lance turns, his face half concealed by shadows and I see so much beyond what the world knows of him. He's done terrible things. _Unforgivable_ things.   
  
The scent of blood and war cling to him like perfume, and he is a cruel, broken thing, drowning in the dark. I swallow down the poison rising in my throat, telling me he’ll never be good, he’ll always be a creature of evil. 

I swallow it down and ignore it anyway.

I don't choose the darkness, but I choose him.  
  
 _I choose him._  
  
And when I step towards him, he knows it too, because he meets me halfway, threads scarred fingers through my hair and claims my mouth with his before either of us can see reason enough to stop.  
  
I let out a small gasp against his lips when he lifts me off the ground and I wrap my legs around his waist, letting him carry me in his arms towards the bed. When he lowers us down, I pull him with me, the shadow of his body obscuring me completely.   
  
And this time, I don't fight it, because _I don't hate him, I..._  
  
He tugs at the hem of my tunic and I help him remove it, laying bare chested in front of him while he devours my body with fire in his eyes. He lets out a sharp breath before his lips are on my skin again, tearing down my neck to my chest, and over the curve of my breasts.  
  
My back arches when he takes a hardened bud in his warm mouth and sucks, and I squeeze my eyes shut, my mind emptying of everything but him. When his fingers trail over my thighs I freeze, sucking in a breath, and he comes back up to whisper against my ear.  
  
"You know what I want, Erika. Say it, _beg for it_ , and I'll give it to you."  
  
"Lance, I-"  
  
 _"Say it."_  
  
He palms me through my pants and a soft moan escapes me, the spot between my legs growing slick with desperate need. The pulsing sensation in my core quickens, and when I finally find my voice it's barely more than a breath.  
  
"I want you. Only you."  
  
A growl tears from his throat and when he rips down the fabric my muscles tense, ready for him to take me. His fingers press against me and I tip my head back and moan, seeing his eyes go wild as he takes it all in. My fingers fumble with his pants, unlacing them hastily, and I swallow down my frustration at not being able to have him inside me quick enough.   
  
I know I should think of all the reasons I shouldn't be doing this, but I don't want to. All I know is that I want this, I want him, and I have for a while now. Nothing in the world will stop me from getting what I what.  
  
Lance nudges between my legs, spreading them wide, and when he pushes inside me I can’t stop the whimper that escapes my lips. I grasp the bed sheets between my fingers to keep from falling apart and I don’t care that I’m playing right into his hand, or that he’s getting exactly what he wants. _Because I want it too._  
  
His hips melt into me, my fingers clasping his shoulders, nails digging into tanned skin as he sets a pace and I feel the power of his body with each thrust into me. Our foreheads meet and the feeling is too much and not enough all at the same time. It's consuming, overwhelming, and still I want _more._  
  
He groans as my thighs clench around his waist and I buck my hips up to meet his, urging him on and in turn emboldened by the pure, raging need in his eyes. I grab for his face to bring his lips down on mine, soft moans escaping me between kisses.   
  
Lance moves harder, and I know he’s coming undone. He buries his face in my neck, driven by an animal instinct that has him curling an arm under my hips and raising them to hit that spot deep inside me. .   
  
"You feel so good," I say quietly, coming closer and closer to the edge. "Don't stop."  
  
He obliges me and I pull him harder into me, breathing hard as my orgasm crests. I close my eyes and fall apart, his name on my lips when a white-hot heat tears through me and bursts from the inside out. Lance slips an arm under my shoulders and pulls me against him hard - a dark, desperate growl rippling through him when he finally shatters completely.  
  
+  
  
Afterwards, I sit before the fire, covered only by the sheet I’d torn from the bed and wrapped around my still flushed body. I watch the flames, entranced by the way they move, and try to bring myself back to reality slowly rather than crash all at once.   
  
I expect Lance will go back to that cold, unfeeling facade of his, and I prepare myself for it - building up my walls, brick by brick, and hardening my heart. I tell myself that whatever I feel for him is false, fleeting, and whatever he feels for me... is certainly not the same.

But even though I expect it, it doesn’t hurt any less.   
  
A rustle stirs me from my thoughts, and when Lance drops down beside me I’m as still as a deer caught in headlights, eyes widening at his presence.  
  
“Don’t look at me like that,” he mumbles, balancing the glass of water he holds between his fingers and staring into the fire, mouth set into a grim line.  
  
Despite all preparation, something inside me goes warm and I have to will myself to keep that guard up. Yet still I can’t help but think... perhaps he’s not so cold after all.   
  
“I hate the heat,” he says after a while, pale eyes fixed on the flames before us. “Fire... the sun. I can’t stand any of it.”  
  
“That makes sense, considering you _are_ an ice dragon.”  
  
He makes a face at me, and I bite down on my lip to stop my grin from spreading, and my next thought leaves my lips before I even think about it.  
  
“You’re always so warm. I like that. I’m always-“  
  
“Cold. I know,” he stares at me in a way he never has before. As if I might be something more than what I am to him, though I know that’s impossible.  
  
“I like that about you too.”  
  
He says nothing else, and when I meet his eyes I’m lost in the ice-cold beauty of them. I’m well aware that once we leave this room, everything will change. Lance will pursue this war of his, and eventually, I’ll be forced to make a stand against him.  
  
But for now... for tonight, my world is no bigger than this room. There is no good or evil, no sides to take. Only us and this strange connection that refuses to give us any peace until its thirst is sated.  
  
Setting his glass on the floor beside him, Lance slips his fingers under my chin and studies me silently, his expression unreadable. When he pulls me forward and kisses me, his lips just as warm as ever, something about him feels changed.   
  
He pulls me into his lap and I don’t fight him, his mouth hot on mine, and his tongue sending shivers skittering down to my toes.   
  
Pulling the sheet from my body, he lays me down before the fire and comes down over me, wasting no time in joining his body with mine. I take his face, bringing his mouth to mine, and I know in this moment that I don’t want this to be the first and only night with him. I want this to be forever.   
  
This time I think of everything I wouldn’t before. I think of my partner, my other half... how I was convinced he was the love of my life, but who has never made me feel even half the way Lance does.  
  
I think of my allegiances to H.Q and the fragile loyalty holding them together by a thread, ready to snap at any moment.

And when my body screams out in ecstasy and falls over the edge for the second time, I think that I might have fallen in love with a monster.  
  
No, not a monster.   
  
A man. 

+++  
 **TEN**  
+++

**Lance POV**

I love her.  
  
The truth is cruel and cold, but it's the truth all the same.  
  
The silly, little girl who afforded me my escape from H.Q has become the woman I fell in love with, despite all odds.  
  
So there's only one thing I must do.  
  
I love her, so I have to let her go.   
  
+  
  
 **Erika POV**

"How are you feeling?" Fafnir greets us in the heart of the Dragon Temple, his wide wings tucked in behind him and his ghostly eyes fixed on Lance and I as we approach.  
  
It had been... quite a night, and I'm afraid I'll have to brave the day on very little sleep. I had wanted to talk to Lance this morning, to ask him what he makes of all this, but I changed my mind at the last minute, the picture of a coward.  
  
Because in my mind, I already know what he makes of it. I know that whatever happened between us stays in that room, in this temple, and never sees the light of day.  
  
But in my heart... I pray that isn't true.  
  
"Better now you've shared your energy with me," Lance addresses the great dragon, his deep voice echoing through the cavernous room and sending shivers down my spine.  
  
I remember the sound of his voice last night, whispered in my ear, rumbling against my skin. The sound had done things to my body that make me blush to think about now.  
  
Shameful things... things that shouldn't have happened.  
  
Things I want to do again.   
  
"Do you understand your parents decision now?" Fafnir speaks and my cheeks flush with warmth, bringing me back to the present.  
  
"No. But it did open my eyes to something important."  
  
"What would that be?"  
  
"I should never have waged this war without my brother."  
  
My blood runs cold as Lance’s words hit me with a wave of nausea, and I realize now... how _stupid_ I had been.  
  
Lance is blinded by hatred. He always will be, and nothing, not even I, can change that. That knowledge crushes me, piece by piece, though when I open my mouth to protest, a voice stops me.  
  
"I wasn't expecting this," Fafnir's head snaps up suddenly, his eyes closed and his senses on high alert.  
  
"What's going on?" Lance demands, hand reaching for his sword in the time it takes Fafnir to reply.  
  
"We have visitors."  
  
+  
  
It's not until we make it to the Forbidden Cliff that I see the boats, surrounding the island on all sides as they prepare for battle. My heart pounds in my chest like a war-drum, and I know I should feel relieved to spy the symbol of the Guard of El on the sails.  
  
But mostly, I'm _terrified_. Lance wanted a war, and now he has it, and it's only now that I realize... I can't choose a side at all.  
  
I think of Nevra. _My other half_. The man I swore I loved, and who loves me in return. I think of him for a second more, and then I sweep the memories away, scrubbing and scrubbing until they're no more.  
  
He'll be on one of those boats.  
  
He's coming for me.  
  
"Look at me," Lance orders, but my eyes are blurred and my throat is tight and I can't focus on anything but the boats, and the sails, and the drums _thump, thump, thumping_ in my ears.  
  
Lance pulls me away from the edge of the cliff in one swift motion, stands me in front of him and stares me down with those bright eyes. I find something to focus on then; those eyes... and for the first time I see something in them I've never seen before.  
  
I see fear.  
  
"Listen to me now," Lance takes my face in his hands to keep me focused, and I know that whatever he's about to say is important. I cling to his voice like a life raft. Like a lantern in the dark, dark night.  
  
"You're going to go with them. You're going to tell them what happened – everything except you and me. Take this."  
  
He grabs my hand and presses something into it. It's a satchel – small, and made from black leather. The sound of vials clinking against each other echo from inside and I stare at him, confused.  
  
"It's all you need to open a gateway to Earth. Get out of here before it's too late," Lance says, and I find myself both equally elated and horrified at the prospect.  
  
 _"Promise me."_  
  
"Lance, don't do this," I beg, clutching his arm to keep myself grounded. I don't know what to do, what to say, _what to think._  
  
All I know is that I can't lose him.  
  
"You can stop, right now. Let's stay on Memoria and build a new home like you said– "  
  
The tears fall now, thick and fast down my face as the prospect of what he's making me do hits me. And I can't breathe, I can't _speak_. The only words that slip through the cracks are choked and small, but they're the only words I need him to hear.  
  
 _"Let me stay with you."_  
  
He lets out a heavy breath, chest rising and falling beneath his armor as he glances between me and the boats pulling on shore by the dozen.  
  
"My fate is sealed, but yours doesn't have to be,” he says, his voice raspy and low when he tilts my chin to level my eyes with his.“Promise me, Erika."  
  
"I can’t, I-I'm in love with you, Lance," I breathe, watching him let out a defeated sigh and squeeze his eyes shut. "I _won't_ leave you."  
  
I know he's fighting himself. Fighting against his own ambitions and struggling to come out on top. In my small, selfish heart I want him to lose. I want every part of himself that he's given to this war to belong to me, and only me.  
  
He takes my face in his hands and kisses me, long and deep. Then, after pulling away far too soon, he leans his forehead against mine, his bright eyes fixed on me.  
  
"You always were a stupid, little girl," he says, but his voice shakes, and I know in my heart what he really wants to say.   
  
"Don't cry," he orders softly, kissing away the tears one by one, and I have the horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach that his resolve is too thick to crack and that these moments, right now, are our last.  
  
Before I have to leave him forever.  
  
"Lance-"  
  
"Get ready. Here they come. "  
  
+  
  
I'm falling through sky and space, wind whipping my hair and lashing my skin, tearing me to pieces from the inside out. Power thrums beneath my skin, too deep for me to reach, and eventually I stop trying and give in to the darkness that overcomes me, cocooning me in an unfamiliar cold.  
  
I hit the water hard and a roar rushes through my ears, so loud I want to scream and scream, just to make it stop. When I do, water rushes down my throat. Burning, tearing, stabbing. It stings and stings and chokes me until I can't take anymore. Until I beg someone, _anyone_ , to save me and make it all stop.  
  
And then nothing.  
  
Silence.  
  
Darkness.  
  
Behind my eyes, all I see is _him._

  
++++++  
 **EPILOGUE**  
++++++

 **Erika POV  
  
** "How are the skies?"

Using a hand to shield my eyes from the mid afternoon sun, I reach the top of the hill and call out to the dragon, just landed on the cliff side near the observatory.  
  
He spreads his wings wide and sends a gust of air towards me, rustling my mousy, brown hair, before tucking them in beside his body.  
  
Then he shifts in an instant, returning to human form and running a hand through silver hair as he paces towards me, the sunlight catching the scales on his silver-blue armor.  
  
"Crisp and clear. Which you’d know if you spread your wings for once and joined me," Lance teases, catching me around the waist and nuzzling his face in my neck, eliciting a series of giggles from me.  
  
I laugh and swat at his shoulder, though he stays within arms reach as I smile up at him fondly, feeling the sting of cool, metal armor beneath my fingertips.  
  
"You know I can’t... at least for a few weeks more."  
  
With a knowing look, he presses a hand to my growing belly and stills, waiting for a sign of movement.  
  
"How is my little Dragon today?"  
  
I make a face and he chuckles at my sourness, kissing me on the side of my face before putting an arm around my shoulders as we descend the cliffs together.  
  
"The little _Aengel_ is restless. The sooner she arrives the better."  
  
"The sooner _he_ arrives, the sooner we can settle our bet."  
  
I sigh at the debate we've had a dozen times over, knowing that soon enough, one of us will be the victor. But really, we know it doesn't matter either way.  
  
"Dragon or Aengel, this child will have _wings_ and it’ll take the both of us to reign them in."  
  
"Who said anything about reigning them in?" Lance laughs, though when my eyes narrow on him he smiles and stops at the bottom of the hill, turning to face me.  
  
“I know this was never a part of the plan... but we’ve faced much worse, and come out on top. You have nothing to worry about, my love.”  
  
He shows a rare moment of softness when he speaks, something he saves only for me, and he tilts my face to his and kisses me, long and deep. My head spins at his touch, the warmth of him catching fire and spreading through my veins. I don’t think about the things he refers to. The past is the past, and our future is brighter than the setting summer sun that drifts in the sky above us.  
  
What I do think about is our life right here, right now, and the responsibilities that come with it.  
  
“Speaking of plans, the Kloovi ambassador has been waiting to speak with you all morning,” I pull back to whisper against his lips, earning a muffled groan in reply.  
  
“Please tell me you don’t plan on making her wait any longer.”  
  
I give him a pointed look, and the shadowed smile he returns confirms my suspicions that he'd spend all day in the skies if he thought it was enough to keep him out of the trade meetings he'd been roped into the past few weeks.  
  
He’s endured the past year without complaint as we’ve built our life anew on this island, and I know he wouldn’t have things any other way. We need to make alliances with the strongest tribes and clans in the area if we have any hope of creating the future for Memoria we've worked so hard for.  
  
"Maybe I should send you to the meeting instead," he gives me a side-long glance as we stroll towards the marketplace, nodding greetings to the vendors and islanders as we pass through.  
  
"As my wife you hold just as much authority as I do."

The curve of his lips tells me he’s in a playful mood, and I take the opportunity to turn his his mischief right back on him.   
  
" _As your wife_ , I’m telling you to toughen up and go to the meeting yourself."  
  
He huffs a laugh before stopping within the outskirts of the market square, his smile slowly dying when he fixes me with a solemn stare.  
  
"You belong here, not me. These people love you in a way I've never seen before."  
  
I take a step closer, my fingers reaching up to caress the tanned skin on the side of his face, forcing his icy eyes to meet mine. A silver-blue wedding band glints on my ring finger - a reminder of a promise we made to each other, of a bond that nothing can break.   
  
"We both belong here. _Together_." I say gently, feeling him relax into my touch and let out a deep breath, his eyes half-closing as his guard comes down.   
  
"Our people look to you for strength and guidance. They may have lost their homes, but they've built a new life on this island, just the same as you and me. _You_ did that for them, Lance."  
  
The corner of his lips tilt softly, and when he takes my hand and kisses it, a new kind of fire glints in his eyes.  
  
"Alright, let me go and settle this business with the Kloovi ambassador once and for all. I'm afraid of what you'll do - _or won't do_ \- if I put it off any longer."  
  
He smirks and waggles his eyebrows suggestively, stepping out of my reach before I can show him _exactly_ what I'll do if he continues to tease me.  
  
"Oh, and if you see my brother, tell him to be on the training grounds at sundown," he throws over his shoulder as an afterthought, and I give him a pointed look.  
  
"Go easy on him, will you?" I call out, only to be met with that mischievous smile. The one that sets my entire body alight and has my heart thumping an unsteady rhythm in my chest.  
  
"When have I ever?"  
  
I shake my head, a soft smile tugging on my lips as I watch him head down the newly paved path until he disappears from sight, and I turn the other way to walk towards our home.   
  
Life on Memoria is rewarding, busy enough to keep every one of us happily occupied, and I’ve found a kind of peace here that I’ve never known anywhere else.   
  
In the mornings I swim in the ocean, or help in the fields. And in the afternoons I teach classes at the University. Human history and relations.  
  
We’re working on building a portal to earth. One day I hope to be able to take field trips, and heal some of the old rivalries between the humans and the Eldaryans in the hopes of building a kind of future together.  
  
Sometimes, I wonder if this is all a dream, or my place in the afterlife, mimicking my earthly desires.  
  
If it is, it isn’t so bad. I have everything I've ever wanted, and above all else...  
  
There’s not a **monster** in sight.


End file.
